


Butter and Razor Blades

by Lemin_Gay



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Addiction, Adult Content, Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bottom Keith (Voltron), Control Issues, Crying, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Declarations Of Love, Drinking, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed, Fights, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gentle Sex, Gritty, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I dont typically write smut so i dont like pp words, I said i wasnt going to but im gonna, Im 23 and its still an issue, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Inspired by Music, Intimacy, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Living Together, M/M, Making Out, Marijuana, Married Curtis/Shiro (Voltron), Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Cancer, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Oblivious Keith (Voltron), Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Old Friends, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Poor Life Choices, Recreational Drug Use, Relapsing, Shiro (Voltron) Has Parkinson's Disease, Shy Keith (Voltron), Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Smoking, Smut, Song fic, Suicidal Thoughts, Ten Years Later, Tenderness, Top Lance (Voltron), Touching, Unrealistic medical jargon, Virgin Keith (Voltron), Why Did I Write This?, and they were ROOMMATES, dont say i didnt warn you, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 41,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26354026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemin_Gay/pseuds/Lemin_Gay
Summary: It had been 8 years since Lance(29) last saw Keith(32) and 6 since he'd really spent time with the rest of the crew. After an incident at a christmas party his life is left in shambles, he's struggled to keep himself from destroying himself as well. Can Keith help him pick up the pieces as he also works to mend his own lost relationships? Will Lance ever tell him how he really feels, or let his addiction consume him alive before he even gets the chance? Will Keith own up to his own feelings that he's never had the courage to admit?Be sure to check out the song that goes along with each chapter. The full playlist found here.https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXSX_4zorKcOLpmgXQxydXgXupD10KjkV
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 101





	1. Brain Fog

Lance stared up at the ceiling. His back to his uncomfortably springy old mattress. It had been ages he had just laid like this, emptily staring at the texture of the slightly glittering dated plaster popcorn. He put his hand on the top of his head rolling his forearm over his face with a slight groan. He never even changed out of his clothing from the day before. It didn't matter. He sat up slowly, plopping both of his hands into his lap, looking at them intently, studying the lines in his palms and cleaning the dirt from his fingernails. Another long foggy night without any sleep. How many nights in a row did this make? He honestly couldn't tell you how many or what mystical force it was that kept him going these days. It was probably the exorbitant amount of coffee he drank in the mornings, or maybe that's just what he told other people so they would just leave him alone. As the alarm went on he sneered at it slamming his hand down onto the snooze button to shut it up before turning it off. Everything took so much longer to do these days. It took longer to sit up out of bed. It to longer to stand. It took longer to get dressed in the morning, and working had become so monotonous and dull it nearly felt like watching paint dry. Hours blurred into days. Days blurred into weeks. Weeks into months. Life felt so empty. He took a deep, enduring breath in before standing and making his way to the kitchen.

The house was quiet. It felt unnatural. It had been a few years since his mom and pop had passed. They went within just a couple of months of each other like true lovebirds of course. All of his siblings were either grown or in colleges or the garrison now. Some even went as far as moving across the entire country to run away from facing a broken family. Lance thought maybe it all had started when he came back. They didn't have anything to stay for. Nothing to wait for anymore. Lance's parents weren't young either, but it came as a shock to everyone when his father, a fit as a fiddle farmer who grew all his own food and never smoked a day of his life, was diagnosed with stage 4 small cell lung cancer. His mom had a heart attack shortly after and the whole family leaned on Lance. He was the only one who had any experience losing someone close and he did the best he could but things just slipped and over time no one bothered much to try reaching out to him and visa versa. He stayed in the home, unsettled by the quiet, but oddly soothed by it. It still smelled of his mothers cooking spices and he'd catch whiffs of her perfume as he'd pass her room on the way to his. He was alone in the house but he didn't necessarily hate that. He did'nt feel really any way about it since he'd never bothered to really ever think too much about it. He lived his life moving from one distraction to the next, only ever stopping when he finally cant handle putting off sleeping any more. He ate a quick lean breakfast before heading to his room to change into his running gear. He was a year out from thirty and was terrified of letting himself slow down. He kept consistent with his training schedule and over the years managed to really fill out his frame as well. He would be lying if he said he didn't look or feel rough though. He'd convinced himself that staying in physical shape was in case the garrison ever called him back but deep down he knew he was running from growing up. That youthful feeling was evading him and he was trying to force it back into place by staying sharp. It seemed like it was working out for him on the outside but he knew it was a shield he'd always used to protect himself, and his face wasn't as good at hiding his exhaustion as it used to be. As he made his way back into his driveway, bending in half and roughly catching his breath, he noticed a black car parked on the opposite side of his empty street. He stood, placing his hands at his hips before approaching his front door. The car door opened and a familiar face, marred with age comparable to his own, stepped out, tucking a long strand of raven hair behind his ear. Lance stopped in his tracks. It had been nearly eight years since he'd last seen Keith Kogane. He aged a lot better than Lance had if he were being honest with himself. Not a lot had changed, he grew his hair out down to just below his shoulders, voluminous and wavy, gently framing his sharp features. Lance was absolutely positive that it was soft, and his dark eggplant colored eyes were rimmed with dark glossy eyeshadow, matching his black leather pants. He wore some kind of band tee that Lance didn't recognize and heavy boots that look like he could kick some serious ass in. Lance was glad he was just running because he could feel the flush in his cheeks growing and his heart pounding faster the longer he looked at him for. They stood and stared at each other for a few awkward quiet moments, just taking each other in. 

"You look like shit." That voice, like butter and razor blades, had not aged a day. Music to Lance's ears and food for his soul. He couldn't remember the last time someone made the effort to even talk to him. He'll take what he can get.

"I could say the same thing about you, Mullet, but I'd kind of be lying and I'm not a good liar." Lance's voice however was different. Gruff and low from both puberty and a few years of smoking. Lance became nervous. "Why are you here?"

"Fucking damn, Lance. Cant i just visit an old friend?" Keith smiled, shaking his head warmly. He walked up, hugging Lance with two firm pats on the back. Lance mumbled something about being sweaty before inviting Keith inside.

"Do you mind if I shower and change real quick? It will be like 5 minutes." 

"What. No extensive 45 minutes skincare routines anymore?" Keith plopped down onto Lances couch, spreading his arms over the back and crossing one leg over the other. Lance laughed a little.

"Nah man. I gave that up a while ago. Things just got too busy. That's life though, ya know." Keith sighed with rapport. 

"I can definitely relate to that. I'll be fine by the way take as much time as you need." 

"Mi casa su casa." Lance waved his hand widely, bowing just a little." Make yourself comfortable."

"Already did." Keith yelled towards Lance as he walked up down the hall to his bathroom. He stared at the mirror for a few moments contemplating how he could throw himself together enough to please Keith. To at least make himself look presentable. Part of him wondered why he was trying so hard if it was just Keith but the rest of him knew why. He didn't want to worry him. Let alone anyone. He showered quickly, not caring much about the three day old stubble on his face, made the effort to at least brush his hair and teeth and put on his nicer glasses. He chose an older black shirt that fit just a bit snug on him. He needed to go shopping, he thought to himself. Ever since he'd been alone he never bothered with dressing nice, usually living in semi loose active wear and pajamas, excluding his work uniforms. He put on a pair of grey joggers and a hooded denim jacket. He looked in the mirror again. His skin was dull, his blue eyes duller, the lines in the corner of his eyes framed the darkness underneath them. His hair was tightly cropped with a little length on top with loose frizzy curls he didn't bother straightening out. He still looked like himself though, just rugged. Tired. Older. He groaned, looking down at the sink, gripping the sides firmly.

"What do i even say to him..." He made a face in the mirror, mocking himself, "Hi my name is Lance and im a totally boring loser and you're super hot and cool and i missed you a lot." He whispered to himself, rolling his eyes before gathering his composure enough to step out and meet his friend back in his living room. He sat across from him, looking over the coffee table. Keith had managed to find an apple in the mean time and was clearly much more comfortable and content with the mood they had created in the air than Lance was. Or maybe Lance just lacked the confidence Keith naturally had about himself.

"So uh..."Lance spoke awkwardly. Keith took another crispy crunchy bite of Apple. 

"How long have you been back on earth?"Keith swallowed, thinking on it for a second

"Only a couple days." Keith sat his apple down on the coffee table in front of him, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward a little.

"Oh?" Lance pried.

"I came back as soon as I heard Shiro's Parkinson's disease was officially in remission. Its going to be a slow recovery process and he probably wont be walking again anytime soon, if ever, but the new injection treatments are working. I think more than anything it made me realize that I cant keep running from my life. I lost too much time already and now i want more than anything to just be around people I love. Lance, its crazy... I feel almost like a new man. Its like one moment happened and then my life just clicked into place and it all made sense. I suddenly knew what's important to me and i knew I had to come back to earth. I... I think its permanent this time." Keith twiddled his thumbs in front of himself, smiling a little at Lance. 

"That's really great Keith. Im glad Shiro is doing better. I...I didn't know he'd gotten that bad. Its been a few years since I talked to anyone. I don't know if you have, but... Hunk has kids now. Three of them, which I adore but don't really get to see. Pidge found herself a fancy job in like sweden or something doing robot stuff i don't understand, Her whole family went with her. I haven't caught up with anybody. I've just kind of been here, hanging out in my old room." Keith seemed saddened by the news that everyone had split, but didn't seem surprised.

"I assumed as much when the calls slowly stopped coming that everyone had kind of went their separate ways. I just didn't want it to be true. Its a little disappointing but if you're staying in the area then I've got no qualms hanging out with you...if you even wa-"

"Yes. God yeah, Keith. You have no idea how boring its been around here." Lance, impulsive as ever, spoke without a filter. "I..." He swallowed thickly, leaning back in his chair, avoiding eye contact with his old friend. "I need to warn you about something though, Keith. Something that I did but I'm...im unsure of how you'll handle it. Its not really a problem but some people don't like it and it's a major reason I don't talk to hardly anyone anymore. Its.... I just..." Lance sighed, "I don't want to scare you off."

Keith tightened the space between his brows, a familiar, anxiety inducing look. It took a long time for Lance to discern that it wasn't judgment, but concern. Keith wasn't good at emotions. "Lance I don't think there's anything you could do that would scare me off."

"Ah fuck..I'm not good at this....maybe you should ask Shiro. He could tell you." Keith grabbed Lances shoulder from across the coffee table.

"Lance."

"Shit alright." Lance put his hands on his face, tilting his head back towards the ceiling to hide his embarrassment. "Ever since we came back its kind of been one thing after another. Both of my parents died six years ago and I took up some pretty bad habits to cope with the stress of it all. Your typical clubbing, petty crime, letting myself go and shit.. Its honestly not even as bad as everyone makes it seem. Im working out and have two steady jobs, I pay all my bills on time. I just like to go out on occasion, but there was an incident that happened at a christmas party around that time and we all decided, including myself, that maybe i should take a break for a while. I went into rehab, they took my phone and we just....never talked when i got out. A few weeks became a few months. A few months became a few years and that's that. Hunk lets me visit sometimes but the worry wart has his kids pretty sheltered and doesn't like my negative influence. Honestly I was just trying to have some fun. Act like a dumb kid again, you know. I felt like that was stolen from me and I just wanted to live it a little. Doing reckless shit to feel young."Keith squeezed Lance's shoulder.

"You're the captain of doing dumb shit, Lance. That's not going to get rid of me. It would take a lot more than getting a little too wild at a party for me to not want to be around you. The rest of the crew loves you but they've never been able to handle you. Its unsurprising they didn't last without you around and honestly im a little pissed they weren't more supportive when you needed it. You just lost your parents and needed them. You always held us together, like glue and its unfair they couldn't reciprocate that when you were falling apart." Lance felt a surge of something he hadn't felt in years, cared for. He felt cared for, and heard, and listened to. He swallowed down his emotions that threatened to catch in his throat."Trust me when I say I'm the first mate of doing dumb shit, myself. I know how that shit feels. Im just trying to piece together what i have left before its too late."

"Yeah... I hope you can, Keith. You deserve all that and then some."Lance cooled himself, stoicism winning out over his emotions. Dampening tears was something he'd become all too familiar with. 

"Yeah me too. And I hope that for you because you deserve it too." Keith's phone buzzed lightly on the coffee table. He picked it up looking at the message. "Ah shit. That's Curtis. I ran out to town to pick up some groceries but just felt compelled to come out here, just to see and well... Here you are." Keith stood, grabbing a pen from the pocket of his leather pants, grabbing Lance's hand."This..." He jotted down some numbers on Lances arm. "...is my new holopad number. Call me sometime or come hang out with the guys and I. Curtis can be a dick sometimes but he means well. Im sure Shiro would appreciate seeing a familiar face." Lance chuckled nervously.

"I'm sure he would." Lance looked at the number quickly before smiling softly at Keith with nostalgia. This almost felt like a dream, and Lance didn't want it to end. 

"I gotta get going." Keith pulled Lance in for another hug. "I missed you buddy. Please don't be a stranger." Lance hugged Keith back for maybe a second longer than he normally would have, stealing the moment as a keepsake for himself. The familiarity of it all both brought him peace and tore him to pieces. He had to get ready for work soon anyways so it was decent timing, he just wished it could last a bit longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/FFhSQRunIaw


	2. Foreign Concepts

Nothing felt real on earth. Keith was disturbed by the fact that he'd grown so accustomed to being in space but it became his home over the years. Readjusting is hard for any move but there's something about going from space full time to earth full time that makes everything seems so unrealistic. From the way his boots crunched into the gravel in his driveway to the way his voice sounded without a helmet on. Everything was different. It felt foreign and to his defense perhaps it always has to him now that he knew who he really was. What he really was. He moved forward bringing the groceries Curtis had asked for and setting them on the kitchen table. Keith tossed his keys down joining Shiro, where he was watching tv, in the living room. He sunk into the couch, deep in thought. Shiro could feel the cogs in Keith's mind turning before he even entered the room. He pushed his left wheelchair wheel forward to turn himself towards the couch a little. 

"You w-ent and saw him, huh." Shiro lifted an eyebrow sarcastically. Keith didn't bother trying to look all too happy about it.

"He looks rough. Like...healthy, but...rough."

"That's not good." Shiro looked deeply disappointed.

"I don't think he's been sleeping. He could barely look at me the whole time I was there. Its just... He's all alone out there at that huge farmhouse and says he has been for years. Why....why did you guys...." Keith crossed his arms, deciding it wasn't his battle to pick. 

"He was chaos." Shiro answered anyways. He looked apologetic, he really did, which made Keith even angrier. "Pure un-unfiltered chaos."

"Like that's a good enough reason, right?" Keith didn't know why he held so much resentment to the way they treated a friend he hadn't talk to in years but he felt a desperate call to protect him and his feelings. It hurt to see Lance like that. 

"You d-ont know what happened."

"Fill me in then." Keith bit back under his breath, but loud enough for Shiro to hear.

"We all saw him diving off the d-eep end but not like we'd expected. He was moving too fast from one thing to the next and he was good at hiding it from us, too. That night he was super drunk and fought with almost everyone at the party. A lot of names were thrown back and forth. He told Curtis that he was only a rebound which put a huge strain on our new marriage, that pidge was annoying and not worth his time and that he was glad she was moving, and even tried to beat up Hunk for almost no di-discernable reason. Hunk physically had to pick him up kicking and screaming put him in my room to try and sober him up and when i went to ch-check on him he was unconscious on my bathroom floor. I thought he'd just blacked out, but it... It was a heroin overdose, Keith. His lips were blue, he wasn't breathing. He almost d-died. It scared the shit out of all of us. When the hospital finally released him I drove him five hours to the nicest affordable rehab I could find and when he came out of rehab he told us he needed some time. We all moved on when he never reached out again. The final straw was when I caught him using in a bar that Curtis and I had grabbed dinner at one night. It hadn't even been a month since he left rehab. He isn't s-serious. He hasn't been honest either and I'm too sick to do anything about it myself. I think... I think he's lost Keith. It would take a miracle for him to come back to us the way we remember him." Keith could feel his chest constrict with pangs of sorrow for his best friend. He deeply cared for Lance. Probably as more than just a friend. As much as Lance used to annoy him, he didn't want to watch him burn himself from the inside out just trying to feel something again. 

"He made it seem like it wasn't a huge deal. I'm... I'm sorry. I just cant believe he would do this to himself. He seemed fine, just tired when I was there. I mean...this is Lance we are talking about." Shiro nodded.

"I know. It hurt too much to see him like that so we just stayed away. He was our friend and that part of him is gone now." Shiro ran his metallic hand through his short white hair. He had grown as beard as well finding it easier to maintain since his hands didn't have the dexterity or steadiness they used to. Even his prosthetic, attuned to his central nervous system, trembled slightly. Agelines had carved their way across shiro's eyes and deepened his smile lines. It made him look more sophisticated and serious in Keith's opinion, but he missed his shaven face as well. 

"Everyone is redeemable Shiro. Lance is a strong guy. I'm not going to back off of him because things got bumpy. He probably needs somebody. You should have seen the look of realization he had when he realized it was me that was on his street. It was Lance. Our Lance. It was like nothing had ever changed. Like no time had ever even passed."

"I'm not telling you to not reach out or help. Im telling you to protect yourself. And to e-expect to get hurt. He's good company but he's untrustworthy. If I had it in me I would help too but I can barely write my own name without help myself anymore. I wouldn't be able to do much except talk to him and I've tried. More than once. He just doesn't want to hear it. Please be careful around him. And don't be surprised when you see him for what he's becoming. I care about the guy but like i said. A lot of what made him our Lance is gone. There's no goofy, happy, trustworthy, loyal Lance left there." Shiro looked serious. Keith knew Shiro would never outright insult Lance so what he was telling him had to have some sort of basis in the truth. Maybe things had really changed after all. Keith decided now was not the time to back away from his friend though, not until he saw how bad things really were. He needed to gauge things for himself. He could always tolerate Lance's quirks, if that's what you call it, better than the rest of the crew. He wasn't sure if it was unwavering patience or if it was just Lance, but he wasn't going to be the next friend to hurt him by leaving. That Keith was pretty damn sure of. 

"It's been what, Shiro, six years? Give him a chance." Keith sat up, looking Shiro in the eye for the first time since they'd started speaking. 

"I've never not felt guilty about leaving him Keith, but I did it for a reason. It's... It would take a lot of work for me to trust him again."

"Give him the chance then, Shiro. If he's so lost then it isn't like you have anything to lose by letting him try." Shiro shrugged, nodding his head in agreement.

"You're right. Its been a long time and I'm feeling better these days so there's no harm in trying, but Keith...I'm not going to get emotionally invested until i have some kind of proof he's given that stuff up. I don't want to be there when he goes too far again. Im not going to watch him kill himself." Keith looked to the floor between his knees.

"I understand." He stood, going to put the groceries on the table away before Curtis came home from work. He thought about Lance a lot the rest of that day. There was no getting around the fact that he may be a bit biased towards him. Keith couldn't handle the way looking into his eyes made him feel. It was a giddiness that reminded him of a time before things got dark. A time before the weight of war rested on all of their young shoulders. That flirty, tanned, perfect hair, perfect skin, wide smiling teenager he once loved had to be somewhere in there. He had to be. Keith saw it himself. He was going to do everything in his power to help Lance find himself again. Keith knew what it felt like to be alone, and how deep you could fall into it. That pit was bottomless and the only saving grace is when someone throws you a rope. He pulled his holopad from his pocket and left it out on his bedside table later that night, hoping to get a message from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro's speaking pattern is not a stutter but is a vocal spasm as a result of his Parkinson's. Im not a doctor and no current treatments will put it into remission but i figured its the future so who knows. Im trying to be as accurate as possible.
> 
> https://youtu.be/r5Or6-HOveg


	3. Soaked Up

Lance hated his day job. Data entry wasn't exactly glamorous or interesting, but it paid his bills. His second job however wasn't necessarily so bad. Being a bartender had the tendency to fuel his bad habits but it could be genuinely fun on occasion. He was hoping that it would be busy and that the night would move along fast. He wanted more than anything to just go home and crash but the tips from the bartending job always gave him an extra bit of money to fuel his cravings. It was a worthy trade off in his opinion, plus he like the bit of social outlet it provided. He could at least pretend to be having a good time here. He untucked his white office shirt from his khaki skinny jeans, trading it for his pride tank top and a bandana over his forehead to keep him cool as he moved about the hot, packed bar. He leaned back in his car seat, tapping his leg anxiously. It had been a long day and he was lying if he said he didn't feel like he needed a boost to get him through this shift. He eyeballed the glove compartment on his dash, sighing in penance for what he was about to do. He unlatched it, pulling a tiny bag of white power from inside a cd case. He unzipped it, sticking his pinky into the substance, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply. It felt like instant clarity to Lance. Like he could suddenly lift buildings from the ground or punch a hole through his steering wheel. He white knuckle gripped the wheel in front of him feeling his heart rate pick up as the world came into hyper focus.

"Woah! That's what I'm talking about!" Lance drummed on the steering wheel with his fingers, reaching up and pulling down the shade down to look in the little mirror behind it. He dusted off the edges of his nose with his palm, making sure he was playing sober well enough to at least do his job. It was going to be a good night, Lance decided. He threw all of his things into the back seat, climbing out and locking his car before heading into the bar. He greeted his coworkers before taking up his station. It was only around eight thirty in the evening so it wasn't quiet as busy as it would get yet. He set to work setting up his station, prepping glasses, lemon and lime slices, and the typical add-ons for anything he might mix. Lance was a bit known in the area for being able to put on a show. He knew a lot of different bartending flairs and flourishes and was as charming as usual. He found he made more money the more likeable and entertaining he was. It was a job that felt natural to him. Lance was a people person and craved positive attention and getting good at the job gave him a decent monetary advantage. None of his coworkers necessarily liked Lance since he'd stolen a lot of the thunder after getting the job seven years ago, but it was hard to hate his magnetic personality. He was a mystery to most people here though. He never really talked about himself with his coworkers. They weren't his friends. Making friends was nearly impossible after coming home. He'd get the occasional customer that would recognize him from helping save the universe, but he mostly flew under the radar when it came to the whole voltron thing. Lance definitely didn't mind it not being brought up. He used the job to drown everything in his life out anyways. It was his last place he felt allowed to be normal. Working two jobs wasn't easy. He knew he would have to be up and ready for training and work again at about seven in the morning the next day, and this job wasn't even over until three. He knew he wasn't going to be sleeping again tonight. It was fine. Everything was cool as long as he kept a buzz going. He could survive the shitty mornings if he just kept moving. Before he even knew it, it was two in the morning again and he felt like shit, smelled like maybe four or five different drinks that managed to make his way to his tank top and the one time someone threw their drink directly at his face after cutting them off. He cleaned up the bar as best as he could in the next hour, gave everything a once over and headed home. He kicked off his shoes at the door, stripping down to just his jeans. He ruffled up his slightly sticky, sugary, alcohol scented hair, grimacing at the mess he'd found. He pulled off his glasses, placing them in a dish on a table by the front door. 

"Fuck, man." Lance sunk into his couch, kicking one leg up onto the arm. He stared at his ceiling for a second before grabbing a small metal box from a shelf under the coffee table. He pulled his flask from it, taking a long swig of the dark burning liquid inside. He pulled a cigarette he had tucked from behind his ear, lighting it and setting out an ashtray from the metal box as well. He felt himself almost instantly wind down, flipping through late night infomercials. He could feel the sadness and emptiness creeping back into the corners of the void in his chest since he no longer had the hussle of the day to keep him distracted, taking another lingering drink to try and fill it before those feelings could. He knew he couldn't keep this up. It was wearing him down. He would be damned to admit that he was struggling in any way, shape, or form though. He just kept on pushing it down with sips of brandy so that maybe at least he could forget he even felt that way to begin with. He looked at the number scribbled and faded into the pores of his arm, pulling out his holopad and contemplating the drunk text he wanted to send. 

Hey.

Good enough for him. Not desperate. Doesn't give anything away. He waited for a response before remembering it was only four a.m. and the likelihood of Keith even being awake was incredibly low. He felt that pull in his chest again. Why would Keith even want to talk to him in the first place? He had no reason to come back to see him. Why is it that every time he finally started to try and let go of the past it had an unnerving way of worming its way back in? It was exhausting. Keith was a good part of that time in his life but he was still a reminder of the giant gaping hole in his life he couldn't fill. The war never settled with Lance. It made him uneasy even at the mention of it or the name they used to call themselves as a team. To this day, if you asked, he would say that lions were his least favorite animal. It was easy to put himself back into the headspace if he wasn't careful. The panic it brought with remembering was unmanageable at times. The nightmares were way worse. Lance didn't just not sleep. He actively hated it. It made him vulnerable. Every time he closed his eyes death and destruction was everywhere and he would be either stuck in the middle or completely at fault for it. He couldn't breathe, floating endlessly in the void. He couldn't even say her name out loud anymore. He couldn't remember her voice. It had been ten years and anyone who's lost somebody will tell you the sound of their voice is the first thing to go. He never forgot her face though. That was something he saw all the time. Sometimes in his dreams, sometimes a stranger's features would vaguely remind him, sometimes he would picture her to calm himself down from a flashback because she would be there anyways and she made him feel less alone back then. It rarely worked. He just wanted to bury it all as deep down as he could, hoping eventually he could just forget it ever happened or that the booze or drugs would eventually fry his brain bad enough that he wouldn't be able to picture it even if he wanted to. Lance felt a hot wetness on his cheek, not even realizing that he'd been crying. He took another drink. A ping went off on his holopad.

Hey man. Everything alright?

Damn it, Keith. Lance could barely see the screen, pie-eyed tears filled his vision. The weight of sleeplessness weighed on Lance, pinning him to the couch. He sent a solitary thumbs up emoji back, knowing he'd fuck up anything he'd try to type out through the drunken haze. Keith was calling him.

"Ah fuck. Hiiii!" Lance answered, sniffing back tears, wiping them from his eyes with his palms quickly off screen before showing his face. Keith paused on the other end, looking freshly rolled out of bed. He squinted at Lance, reading the flush in his cheeks and redness of his eyes. "Uh... Keith...hellooooo?"

"Are you seriously drunk at five in the morning?" Had an hour already passed? He blinked at the top of the holopad screen, unable to read it. He felt a pang of guilt and the void in his chest deepening with every second the two of them silently stared at each other. Lance bashfully shrugged as his only response.

"I'm coming over. Stay on the-" Lance hung up, panicking slightly at the sudden announcement of having a guest. He tried to stand, finding himself stumbling back into the couch. He was too drunk to move up right so he resorted to staying on the couch and just breathing for a moment while he thought up a gameplan. How much had he had in the last hour? He held up his empty flask, looking on the table to see his small box of contraband laying out in the open. He rolled off the side of the couch and got on his hands and knees, trying his hardest to put everything away before Keith got there. He couldn't know what all he had in that little silver box. He would hate him if he knew. He shoved it all back under the coffee table, too woozy and soused to pull himself back onto the couch. He laid his cheek against the cool hard wood floors feeling a second wave of emotions crashing down on him. He was going to let Keith down. He was going to hurt him. Keith just got there and was already going to want to leave him. Lance just laid there, running his fingers over the grain of the floor until he heard the door bell, his doorknob jiggling and clacking, and finally Keith bent over talking to him too fast for him to keep up.

"Huh?" Lance blinked, his hazy eyes burning from the light of the ceiling lamp.

"Can you sit up for me?" Keith pulled his hair back off of his shoulders and out of his face with a hair tie, putting his hands on Lance's arms. "Holy shit dude, you got shredded." He heaved Lance up, not getting any help with the weight. Lance lulled his head limply, scrubbing at his left eye with his palm. The world tilted on its axis and he couldn't slow down the spinning. He giggled lightly, unsure if it was genuine or nerves.

"Huh?" He asked again, still confused.

"You already asked that buddy." Keith gave lance a look that make him feel like a disappointed parent. "Shiro told me I would find you like this." Suddenly feeling much more sober, Lance gripped onto the cuff of Keith's hoodie, looking at him with a look that resembled a kicked puppy.

"NONONONO. Keith please don't go. I just had a long day I promise it wont happen again. I'm sorry. Please don't leave me." Lance tightened his grip on Keith's hoodie sleeve, terrified that if he let go that Keith would disappear. He felt the world pitch again, ending up with his head on Keith's shoulder.

"Woah woah woah buddy, slow down. I didn't say I was going anywhere but you're king of a massive mess right now. You're covered in glitter and what I can only hope is some sort of blue syrup. Did you just come home from a party? Did you take anything I need to be worried about or did you just drink?" Lance shrugged, leaving Keith with an uneasy feeling.

"Alright, well... Lets at least try to get you cleaned up and in a bed." Lance closed his eyes, throwing an arm around the other side of Keith's neck. He spoke into his sweater.

"Work tomorrow." Keith laughed sternly in a serious tone.

"No. You're definitely not. If I have to MAKE you sleep I will. Do you even know when the last time you slept was?" Lance sniffed against Keith's shoulder. Keith made a slightly guilty yet uncomfortable face before patting Lances back like a kid he just scolded. "Yeah yeah. I know, come on, sharpshooter." Lance pushed himself off of Keith's shoulder grumpily.

"Don't call me that." He spoke softly through tearful eyes.

"Alright I wont call you that. Will you still come with me?" Lance waited a few seconds before nodding. Keith took one of his arms around his shoulder, standing the both of them slowly enough that Lance could get his feet under himself before Keith brought him too his bathroom. He started cleaning his hair and face with some baby wipes he had tucked into a backpack he had brought with him. Keith was glad he kept these handy on the road. They could be a real life saver sometimes. He was gentle and patient and Lance broke down into tears several times as he worked, blabbering barely intelligible things about the war and his feelings and sometimes Keith couldn't make out what he was saying at all. He didn't pay any mind to it. It wasn't for him to know if lance didn't tell him things sober. By six thirty in the morning he had Lance cleaned up and in fresh pajamas. Lance grabbed Keith's wrist again after helping him into a bed in a room on the first level of the home. He looked at him with fear in his eyes.

"I cant sleep." The exhaustion felt like a boulder sitting on Lance's shoulders, but sleeping was a task he just couldn't make himself do. His breathing was laden with anxiety. Keith couldn't stand to see him like this. He held his hand back, sitting on the edge of the bed instead.

"Why Lance? You're tired. I can tell." Lance chewed his chapped lower lip.

"It's complicated." It was all Keith needed. He nodded gently. He wouldn't pry while Lance was vulnerable. They would definitely be talking later but there was no pressure here. Keith would never want to outright grill him while he couldn't even stand on his own

"Is there anything I can do?" Lance scooted over in his bed , not letting go of Keith's hand.

"Just stay for a bit. I'm sorry you have to see me like this." Keith laid next to lance on top of his covers, pulling his head into his lap.

"We all fuck up sometimes. I won't hold it against you. Just... Call me and I'll be here. I'd rather be here than you be alone and unable to even move." Lance grunted in agreement. Keith gently played with his hair, desperate to lull him into any kind of sleep.

"Listen Lance... I know things haven't been easy for you but if it ever gets to be too much, I want you to know that you can trust me. Its almost seven in the morning and im here. I mean it when i say any time. I seriously want you to call me. Its not a burden. Its not annoying. I... I care about you and hate seeing you so....sad." Lance sniffled again for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, too tired and dried up to cry again.

"Everything sucks. I cant call you all the time every day."

"I don't see why not." Keith could tell Lance was nodding off, his eyelids fluttering and struggling to stay open. "Close them Lance, I'll still be here when you wake up." Lance shifted his weight to get more comfortable, hesitantly letting himself close his eyes. Keith waited patiently for Lance to drift off, casually twisting his curls with his fingers. He observed Lance like he was living breathing art, mapping out new features and creases into his memory like he if he looked away they would all disappear. Lance's warm honey skin was flecked with sparse sun spots from years of running in the desert sun, and training in his back yard. He had a small old looking healed scar leaving a small bald spot in his left eyebrow. His nose stayed quite the same along with the sharp angles of his jawline. His cheekbones were high and pronounced, highlighted by two slightly faded and tanned blue Altean marks just below the outer corners of his eyes. Lance had really become quite handsome in the time that had passed. Keith had always been attracted to Lance but he always had passed him by as just a friend and Keith was certain he'd gotten the memo by now. He wondered just how chaotic things had gotten while he was away picking off the last rebel galra fleets. What was on Lance's shoulders that made him feel this way, he wondered. Keith felt he knew the answer but he also didn't like it. The princess was Lances real first love. Her death had weighed on everyone in the team it seemed like. Maybe it was Keith's previous beef about the fact she treated him like an outsider because of his race or maybe it was because she got Lance to fall for her first, and hard, but he never really liked her. Sure they were a team and had each other's back, and each other's trust, and Keith felt massively guilty for it, but he didn't truly, deeply miss her the way everyone else did. She was hypocritical, racist, and bossy, three things Keith had never had a good time dealing with. He was brutally honest, and had a disdain for practically any and all authority along with a red hot temper. It had gotten him in trouble and still had a tendency to these days on occasion. They had always butted heads. One thing he did have for Allura was massive amounts of respect for her drive and cause. Losing all your people in an instant couldn't have been easy. She remained hopeful that she could end things to the very end, and again, Keith knew how it felt to feel alone, so he would never speak poorly of her. Keith knew he wasn't the best person. He was flawed and has jealousy issues, but made it a point to actively work on those things. Lance was something he never got over. She absolutely obliterated his heart, even if it was never her intent to. They moved so quick it almost felt like a rebound to him. Maybe it was but it wasn't his call. Regardless of if it was or not, he'd be surprised if Lance could ever love again after that. Keith needed to protect Lance, then and now. He wanted to canvas the house and get rid of anything that Lance could get his hands on and abuse, at least while he was there. He'd be damned if Lance did anything stupid later that day that could get him hurt on his watch. Lance was always a heavy sleeper. It was always expected that he'd be late or miss the alarms when they all bunked together on the castleship. Keith was more than grateful for this fact. He gently picked up his head from his lap, shifting himself out from under Lance before gently laying him down on a pillow. He waited a moment to make sure he hadn't awoken before begining his silent check over the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/rwNwaNqkwNo


	4. Downhill

He did a sweep of the kitchen, gathering up anything and everything with an alcohol content, putting it in a thick black lawn care bag he'd found under the sink. Lance's cabinets were pitifully sparse but had seemingly enough for one guy getting through the week, but luckily his fridge seemed well stocked. Keith knew that Lance was at least taking care of keeping himself in shape. Lance being fed wasn't something he had to worry about, which felt like a bit of a weight off his shoulders. He looked fit. Really fit. Keith moved. On to the bathroom he and Lance had just come from, getting rid of the mouth wash and trifling through the medicine cabinet for anything, relieved when he didn't find anything disconcerting. He wandered into the living room, taking a once over of all the cabinets in this room as well, satisfied with the lack of space to hide things in this room at first glance and content he could move on to the upstairs. 

The first room he knew not to touch.

His mother and father's names hung on a decorated wooden hanger on the front of the door, as did Lance's and his siblings rooms. While knowing nothing was off limits to an addict when it came to making sure their stash was hid, there were some lines even Lance couldn't cross. Keith knew he wouldn't cross that line either. Lance and Rachel's room was next door. Keith was curious what Lance's teenage bedroom would look like and he wasn't necessarily disappointed. He stifled a snicker at first glance seeing that the balance of power in this room was either wildly unmatched or that the both of them had a deep seeded love for boy bands. The only distinction between the sides of the room was that, though all walls were painted Navy blue, one side of the room was riddled with thousands of teeny tiny painted glow-in-the-dark stars, stretching out in all directions, though faint with the rising sun. These weren't your typical 90s plastic sticky tack stars. Each one was hand painted and the more Keith looked at it the more he recognized it as an accurate portrayal of the night sky from the area, most likely taken from the skylight above teenage Lance's bed. His previous passion for space exploration moved Keith. He remembered the first time he felt that spark, sitting in the flight simulator seat the day he met Shiro. He sat on Lance's bed, momentarily distracted from his mission. He looked up to the hazy morning sky and tried to imagine that version of Lance again. He thought he was so dorky and annoying at first. He wasn't someone you wanted to underestimate, but unfortunately most people typically did. Their problem was that they took him for face value, which is exactly what Lance wanted. It didn't ever matter if he were sad or scared. All that mattered was how he wanted you to see him. It was something Keith felt only he ever really looked past. He mourned for his friend and his lost passions, ripped away from him only as a child. They were all just kids, but Lance....he had a child's spirit and was not ready to grow up when they were all thrown into the acrimonious thrall of war. All he ever cared about girls, friends, food, and making people laugh. It was all he wanted. The war had forced his hand uncomfortably and without warning, he grew up. Keith knew that too, but he had already had his time to heal and rebuild his family. What did Lance have? Keith sat up, glancing over the room, too nervous to touch anything, worried it would be precious to Lance. He looked under the bed, in the closet, and in his dresser, paying no mind to the dorky odds and ends Lance had tucked away. Finding nothing here, Keith gave it another quick once over before moving on. He gathered up all the things he had collected from the house and ran them out to the trunk of his car, locking it behind him. It wasn't like he had anything better to do than help Lance anyways. Curtis and Shiro has a good system going without him being there and he didn't want to be disruptive. He headed back inside, finding Lance awake and sitting at the kitchen table with a can of cold brew. 

It had only been about two hours, as thorough as Keith was. There was no reason for him to be awake. Keith pulled the seat opposite of him, sitting quietly for a while. Lance certainly didn't look ready to talk. He rubbed his eyes with his index finger and thumb, pinching his brows together for a few minutes, just quietly sipping. Keith finally reached across the table, taking Lance's hand into his. Lance looked up in surprise, wholly unaware of Keith's presence to begin with. Keith didn't let go, instead softening his gaze to one of concern. It wasn't that he could tell per say, since Lance had just been rubbing his eyes but it did seem like he had been crying again. 

"I thought I dreamed you." Keith would have laughed. Would have. He shook his head briefly.

"Lance. Why are you even awake right now? There's no way in hell you've gotten enough sleep. I cant imagine you feel okay right now."Lance pulled back his hand and his coffee, putting both in his lap defensively.

"I'm fine Keith. Thanks for last night but you can go." Keith raised an extremely skeptical eyebrow.

"I'm not done babysitting you yet. Like I said before, it's going to take more than a night of partying too hard to get me to leave."

"I wasn't partying last night. I worked until three. I dont remember calling you though. Yesterday was rough."

"And today will be too if you don't get some sleep."

"I cant."

"That's what you said earlier."

"You're just...not getting it. I physically can not. I just wake up even if I try anyways. I just cant." Lance laid his head on the cool wooden table, feeling a bit green behind the gills and desperate for Keith to get out so he could find some hair of the dog to chase this god awful headache he had away. Keith grabbed his bag, sorting through it to find some ibuprofen for his fallen friend. He tossed the blister pack onto the table in front of him and Lance looked more than appreciative. He sighed deeply, taking two with his cold brew.

"I'm still drunk. I cant get the spinning to stop. What time is it?"

"Only nine thirty. Why dont you at least lay down for a bit?" Lance slammed his hands forcefully onto the table in frustration, making Keith jump.

"Grrrh. Ugh." Lance relaxed, taking breath before speaking. "Stop asking me to sleep Keith. Just go home. I'm fine. I've been nothing but fine. I will continue to be fine. I'm extremely late for work and I used up all my days off. I'll get fired if i don't go so not only am I fine, which i am, but i couldn't afford to be even if i wasn't fine, which i am not."

"Lance..." Keith's voice was soft and caring. He looked Lance in the eye, tearing down walls faster than Lance could build them. It was frustrating to Lance. 

"Please go home, Keith." Lance spoke through his teeth.

"No." Keith stood. "Here's the things Lance," he traced the edge of the table as he talked, making his way around it towards Lance, "I know you're not fine. I've know since I got back that things are not the way they used to be. The moment i laid eyes on you i knew you were different now. I only want what's best for my best friend. We need to talk about this but i refuse to do it until you're clear headed and well rested and im not going away either. You know me Lance. Pick your battles carefully because im probably the last person you want to push away. My stubborn ass will keep coming back just to make a fucking point." Lance felt backed into corner and didn't trust himself not to say or do something nasty if he didn't open up. Keith was someone he knew he could rely on but garnering his trust again wasn't going to be easy. How could he know for sure that Keith wouldn't leave him? Everyone else had. Lance tightened his jaw, turning his face away from Keith who stood a mere two feet from him. He couldn't lie to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets pretty rough from here folks
> 
> https://youtu.be/4eGVGwuNukU


	5. Highs and Lows

"I'm.....im..." Lance looked out the window at his family's dry, barren farm, "not...okay." Lance swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "It isn't really that big of a deal, you know. I'm just figuring some shit out I guess." Lance hugged his own arms, still avoiding eye contact with Keith. They waited a moment before Keith pulled Lance into an embrace. Lance didn't hug Keith back. Keith let go after a second, holding Lance by the shoulders. 

"Tell me why you cant sleep. Really." 

"Its complicated."

"Nuh-uh you already said that too. Tell me Lance, come on for real." Keith guided Lance into the living room making him sit on the couch. He sat next to him, turning his body towards Lance to listen.

"I mean... It really is complicated though. I don't know how or when it started but... I get these... nightmares. A lot of the time i wake up with sleep paralysis and these things.......more like aliens come into my room and they won't touch me but they'll taunt me. The nightmares are worse than the sleep paralysis though. The ones i remember are anyways. L-" Lance paused to get control over his emotions, feeling the anxiety of even just saying his name creep up his neck, his skin suddenly covered in goosebumps, "Lotor is there a lot. So are his sick excuses for parents. Typically they either tie me up and kill everyone I love and make me watch or they tie all of them up and make me kill them myself. Sometimes its Voltron battles where we are losing badly. Sometimes its being lost alone out in space in nothing but my suit. Sometimes its the freezing cold and searing hot of dying and being brought back over and over again. And sometimes, when things are really bad, and im feeling really really bad.... The dreams are just me violently murdering....her....over and over again in different awful ways and im just trapped in my own body watching myself do it, screaming and sobbing on the inside but emotionless on the outside." If Lance hadn't looked ill before he definitely did now. He swallowed thickly, chewing on his chapped lips til the skin split. "Keith it's inescapable. Its everywhere. Constant reminders. I still even wear it on my skin." Lance lifted his shirt to his waist showing the bottom half of a raised pink burn scar that ate up most of his back. Keith unfortunately remembered that, too. "It's everywhere Keith. I cant shake it no matter how hard i try. Drugs helped for a while but now nothing is working. And now everyone who even remotely knows what its like hates me because I didn't care if I hurt myself to get rid of it and now its not even worth it. I just wanted it gone and was willing to do anything. I still would. I feel like its just another thing i massively fucked up. I'm kind of dying and I honestly cant say that i really do care anymore. I just want to be high. I get it you know...why everyone hates me. I was always the one who had the least to offer and needed the most. Asked for the most. I had issues before the war even started. I lack the confidence to feel like getting better would change anything about that." Keith nodded, he looked at the floor, unsure of what to say. Saying he had been there too wouldn't come as consolation. It would just remind them both that things were bad and unavoidable. Keith took Lance's hand again, pulling his shirt back down for him before taking the other too. He held both tightly.

"Lance I don't hate you. I could never hate you. Shiro... He doesn't hate you either. These are things i know for a fact. I would bet money that Hunk and Pidge feel the same way. If they knew that you thought they hated you, they would never let you live it down. What they are though, is worried, and they have every right to be. Lance... You're a mess, not a fuck up, just a mess. I say that with all the love in the world. If i have to make it my mess to help you fix it, I will and without second guessing. My instincts have never been wrong or gotten me in trouble and right now everything in me is screaming at me to help you. Messes can be tidied up. Dead friends cant be. Shiro and I talked and I know what happened between all of you. I don't want to see you end up like that, Lance." Lance looked bitter about the whole situation, sneering at himself in disgust. He didn't like the idea of ending up dead in a bathroom stall much either, but at least he wouldn't be here, alone without anything to distract him.

"I'm scared though, Keith. What if none of this never gets better? What if I don't want it to get better?"

"Maybe it wont, but I wont let you deal with it alone." Lance nodded, feeling that familiar pull in his chest. 

"I don't want it to." Lance spoke bluntly, pulling a cigarette from a pack on the coffee table, lighting it. He stared off into the room, smoking quietly.

"Why not?" Lance looked at Keith, pain washing over his eyes, dulling them. Keith remembered how they used to sparkle, like shimmering tide pools, full of life.

"If I let go of it, then what would i have left?" Lance took another long drag of his cigarette. "I lost my family. My friends. The only person who ever loved me. I cant even sleep." Lances eyes filled with angry, hot tears, defensively wiping them away before they could fall. "Its the only thing I can rely on to be there. I know my dealer better than I know myself. Look, Keith, I hate to say it. I really do, but you left too. I've been alone with this so long that it's become a friend. My only friend. And it may be toxic and bad for me, but so is the alternative. It's what I wake up for. Its what I work for. Its what I breathe for. If I let that go, what will i have?"

"Is it not enough to just live? Genuinely live?" Lance shook his head. He sighed deeply, putting his hands on his knees, being careful not to fuck up and bend his smoke.

"Maybe before all of this it would have been." Keith placed a hand on Lance's slouched back?

"Then...what about doing it for me.... If you cant do it for you?" 

"Then I can try....but I'm a liar. I break things. I hurt people's feelings. I set myself up for failure. And I'll be damned if I say no to anything offered to me. You shouldn't make it your responsibility. I cant stop you from giving a shit, Keith, but i can warn you that it's a waste of your time."

"If there's even a glimmer of hope that I'll get you back, Lance, then I wont stop trying. " He rubbed his brow ridge in frustration, shaking his head.

"Suit yourself." Lance whispered under his breath. Keith rubbed his hands together. Lance had changed a lot, but he was convinced that he was still somewhere down in there.

"Thanks for talking to me Lance. It was brave." Keith could have sworn he saw Lance's face flush a bit. He sunk down into the couch bashfully, pulling another smoke out.

"Forget it." He said casually, shrugging at the sentiment. Keith was satisfied enough with that. Lance closed his eyes, resting his head back against the cushion of the couch, taking puffs of smoke as he rested his tired eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/q3gnxO8bUxQ


	6. Personal Space

Lance sat there chain smoking until he no longer had any cigarettes left. He couldn't decide if it were those or the situation that was putting the sour taste he had in his mouth. The voice in the back of his head was pretty sure everything Keith was doing was just performative and it was doing a good job of making Lance believe it. He was going to have to convince him himself that this was all a lost cause. The alternative was Lance getting clean, and he was sure that was the last thing he was going to let himself have. Lance had tried quiting the drugs before, but he never got anywhere with it or it was always back to square one the instant he would get that empty feeling in his chest again. He sighed deeply, waited until Keith stepped into the bathroom, grabbing his silver box from under the coffee table, shoving it in the elastic band of his sweatpants and under his shirt. He went to his room, finding a good hiding place for it deep in his closet, but not before popping some small white pain killer he'd gotten a week or so back. He wasn't going to spend this day sober, and alcohol certainly wasn't an option. Thanks, Keith.

He headed back to the room he was sleeping in downstairs, plopping face first into the duvet. He started at the dresser directly across from him, mapping out the wood grain. He was bored, tired, and suddenly much more sad than he had been earlier. He felt like a huge burden if he were being honest. He prayed that Keith would get sick of it and leave him alone. That he would realize that there was nothing left of him like he felt and doing this was going to hurt him. Lance didn't want to hurt Keith. He loved Keith, or at least the idea of him. Losing him was easier than disappointing him and having him look at him the way everyone else seemed to. It was a delicate, corruptable thing he and Keith had. It always had seemed to teeter on a fine line between lovers and enemies and not straying from that line kept them friends. Lance didn't know if he could handle both the disappointment and help at the same time.

He had thought a lot about Keith these last two days. Being near Keith with so little about him having changed was a harsh reminder of the way things were the last time they had been together, which hurt of course, but having him around was also stirring up old uncomfortable feelings Lance had for him from that time as well. Keith had really found himself in his time away. Lance was unsure if it were lust or jealousy biting at the back of his brain every time he caught Keith in his peripherals. It was rude to stare. He tried not to. The last thing he needed right now was to get more involved with Keith. He would never be ready for that conversation. Both of his parents were gone before he even settled with the idea of maybe being bisexual himself. It was unfortunate he would never get to tell them. Lance wanted to believe heaven existed and that his parents knew, and loved him regardless, but he also knew the vastness of space and knew there was no god out there. At least not for him. The thought was nice but just unrealistic to Lance. All that was out there was the crushing emptiness and struggle for the people that lived in it. Earth wasn't an exception. 

Lance ran his hand over the cotton duvet cover, just trying to feel something, pushing himself up lethargically. Whatever he had just taken had made the world a bit more manageable, a bit more quiet and palatable. It was comforting to him. He pulled on his denim jacket, patting his pockets down for some cash. He pulled out his wallet, counting the tips he'd gotten from the night before. It was only going to be a quick trip to pick up some more smokes, Lance knew this is what he intended but he also knew the likelihood of it only being that was low if he left. He'd have to sneak past Keith. Lance felt guilty deep down but on a surface level he really didn't care. He filtered through all the different ways he could justify leaving and found himself satisfied regardless of the reason. He didn't need a babysitter. Especially one that really only made him feel more lost and confused to be around. He slipped on a pair of sandles, not wanting to take the time to tie his shoes. He looked in his full length mirror in the hall on his way out, grimacing at himself. He looked shitfaced, or at least coming down from a rough night. It was plenty evident. He stood in the hall stating at himself like that for way too long. His clothes were slightly stained and smelled like weed and booze. His socks didn't match. His teeth were stained yellow, and some were even broken from years of neglect and smoking more than a lack of brushing them. He didn't take much pride in his physique, though it was arguably the nicest part about his looks at the moment. He didn't work as hard as he did just to look good, but it wasn't like he exactly hated feeling strong at least physically. He put on his glasses, slouching his shoulders to seem more unassuming before heading towards the door. Keith was leaned up against the railing of Lance's porch, talking to his mom on his holopad. He looked happy until he saw Lance. It was like a punch directly in the gut. Lance rubbed his arm.

"Yeah im gonna have to let you go for a second. I'll call you back." He hung up, slipping it back into his jacket pocket.

"Where are you going?"Keith asked sternly. Lance squinted his eyes drawing his head back.

"What are you, my mom?" Keith squared up his shoulders, Lance could easily take him down if he needed to but Keith had more field time and could outsmart him. He knew he was too quick. Fuck. "I was just grabbing some cigarettes." 

Keith tilted his head questionably. He relaxed back , crossing his arms. "I can drive you. I want you to come to dinner at Shiro's place. I want to talk to you about a proposition i was thinking about." Lance winced.

"Yeah...i guess." Lance spoke under his breath, picking at the underside of his nails, "I'll probably ruin it just by being there."

Lance pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket, slipping them on before climbing into the passenger seat of Keith's small, two door, black sports car. Lance knew it was old but was unsure of the make or model. It smelled like diesel and old ash...and heavily of Keith's cologne. It was spicy and sweet and reminded Lance of cinnamon candy he would eat as a child. Keith tucked down into the drivers seat, letting the engine warm for a second before he backed out of the drive way. He grabbed a cassette from the center console, popping it in and hitting the blocky play button. Lance didn't know the band, but it was a gentle spooky sounding kind of eighties music. As a matter of fact, there just wasn't a lot Lance knew about Keith. He wasn't entirely sure how to talk to him. Small talk wasn't ever something that they did. Lance didn't really have any hobbies other than partying to talk about. Keith always seemed to be simmering in thought though. You could always see the gears turning with him. He'd get that serious distant look in his brow he had now. 

"What are you thinking about?" Lance was quiet, letting the music in the car nearly drown him out. Keith turned it down.

"Honestly?"Keith lifted an eyebrow

"Yeah."

"Okay. Well I'm just trying to figure out our options. I was going to wait until tonight after I made dinner and we had some time alone, but we are alone now so why not, right? I was just thinking that I hate you being alone out here. I'm looking for a place so i don't have to stay with Shiro and Curtis, and thought it would be beneficial for both of us if maybe we roomed together. You have the space and I can pick up a couple of bills. I just... I'm kind of scared of leaving you alone." 

"Scared?" Lance squinted, confused. 

"You cant tell me that feeling that way is unreasonable. I know better than that. Lance, I need to show you something." They pulled into the gas station parking lot. Keith. Shifted his weight, undoing his belt buckle, and pulling down his pants.

"WOAH!! We are in public, dude." Lance averted his eyes with his hand, looking out the window.

"Just shut up and look. I'm wearing boxers anyways, dumbass." Lance did as he was asked. He clenched his jaw so tight he'd swear his teeth would shatter. Along Keith's upper thighs were what looked like a hundred layers of small horizontal white scars. They were old and faded into Keith's skin. Lance knew this at least but it still wasn't what he was expecting from someone as strong as Keith. It took him by surprise. How old were they? Should he have noticed earlier? He couldn't look away, letting the dissonant emotions he was feeling consume him.

"I know how you feel. I know what its like to not be able to stop, and to not want to stop either. I know that feeling of thinking self destruction is your friend. Trust me, I know. You have time to fix this shit Lance, and im not comfortable leaving you alone with what little you've told me. Let me help you. It would be helping myself too. Let me take care of you, Man. I care about you." Keith pulled his pants back around his hips, buttoning them. Lance didn't know what to say, electing to just nod instead. He had questions but wouldn't pry. 

"You need accountability. I need a place to stay. It makes a lot of sense. I get you more than i think you know, buddy. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I understand. You can have the bedroom downstairs." Lance sighed through his nose, stepping out to buy his cigarettes before they made their way to Shiro's place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/Bk-WxE3ytSY


	7. Claustrophobia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw for panic attacks, overdoses

Anxiety crept up the closer they got to the house and by the time they pulled in to the driveway,Lance was almost entirely frozen. It had been actual years since he'd seen anyone from the rest of the crew. Things had ended poorly for Lance. He knew that Shiro had gotten worse over time as well and he wasn't entirely prepared for seeing him down. Luckily according to Keith, he was making some progress these days, which was good, but to say it was any of Lances business was a stretch in his opinion. He was uncomfortable and couldn't will himself to really move let alone get out of the car. Keith met him half way, exiting and coming around to his side. He opened the car door, squatting down to meet Lance at eye level. 

"What's goin' on? Talk to me." Keith spoke gently, his plum colored eyes boring into Lance with levels of empathy he thought excessive. Lance has realized he was holding his breath. He swallowed thickly, unbuckling himself and swinging his legs out. His leg muscles felt like jello. He motioned to speak but subjected himself to silence, closing his mouth and gritting his teeth. Drawing a cigarette from his new pack with shaking hands, struggling with the lighter as Keith continued to speak to him.

"Lance, I promise I wont let things get out of hand. You wont like me saying this but...you're really fragile right now and i can see that and I will protect you. Curtis can be a douche sometimes but I know for a fact Shiro loves you...from a distance. We can take all the time you need."

"Im not fragile and i don't need you to protect me from your ill brother and his husband." Lance bit back viciously, but with enough self control not to raise his voice. He understood that he was not reacting to the situation rationally, and that alone made him irritable, but this wasn't good. Keith could tell he was nervous, scared even, of being rejected by people he still loved. He sucked on his cigarette firmly, his hands still shaking. He pressed his head against the seat. Keith gripped Lance's bicep, comfortingly rubbing it up and down as Lance panicked in place.

"You're right. I'm sorry." Keith blinked slow a few times, taking the time to think about what he should do when the front door of the one story ranch house opened. Curtis stepped out, waving to the car. Keith stood, waving back. "We will be in in a few minutes, Curt!"

"I should go home." Lance closed his eyes, pressing his head back firmly still, just trying to take turns between smoking and breathing so his fear doesn't consume him.

"Just come in, grab a bite to eat, and if it's too much we can go to my room or i can take you home. Im not going to push you into doing something you don't want to do. I can only imagine what you're feeling right now." Lance nodded, forcing his legs to hold his weight and move him forwards. He stamped out his cigarette on the bottom of his sandle, shoving the bud in his pocket to toss in the trash later. 

He and Keith headed inside. It took Lance longer than he'd like to admit before he could go inside, but once in he was greeted by Shiro's warm, familiar smile and it was like nothing had changed for a moment. Lance smiled back before they shared a quick hug. It was less awkward than he had expected.

"It's great to see you Kiddo."

"You too, Shiro. Its been too long."

"It h-has." His presence was like a warm blanket gently draped over his shoulders. It was starting to make Lance panic again. This was wrong. It felt too wrong. It felt too normal. It was too easy. He was being too casual. This wasn't their relationship anymore. 

"K-Keith, I cant do this..." His facade he worked up at the door was crumbling and quickly. Lance was scared of fucking up again. The last time Shiro had seen Lance and talked to him normally was before he almost died in the bathroom of this house. Being in the space brought him back to then, how he felt as he was lying on the cold blue tile alone and hated by everyone in the house, entirely sure that he was not going to wake up. Feeling sick, and dizzy, and distant, and empty. He felt like he was either going to pass out or be sick. Keith anticipated this, seeing him falter and grabbed his arm, supporting some of his weight. Lance doubled over with his hands on his knees, focusing on just breathing with his eyes closed. He didn't want to see the walls of this place.

"I'm going to go g-get him some water." Shiro said with concern, wanting to give Lance a moment alone with Keith.

"I cant do this." Keith wrapped another arm around Lance's waist, just in case." I cant fucking do this. God I don't know why i was stupid enough to think i could." Keith just held him, trying his best to just soothe him. 

"You're okay, Lance. I've got you."

"Keith you don't get it. I almost died last time I was here. I should have died last time i was here." 

"Here, why don't we sit for a minute." Keith helped lower Lance to the floor. He put his head between his knees, resting his hands over his ears. This was easily one of the worst breakdowns he had had in a while. Lance couldn't get control over his racing, looping thoughts. He was a fuck up junky who never contributed anything to his relationships. He ruins everything he touches. He let all his friends down. He should have died in that bathroom. He should have died in space. His heart felt like it was going to explode. He rocked in place in a failed attempt at soothing himself. Keith felt bad. He never considered that aspect of bringing him here, and now it makes sense that it would be traumatic for him to be back. Lance felt like he couldn't breathe, practically wheezing from the way panic had constricted his chest. He shook violently and it killed Keith to watch. Curtis walked in, shocked by the scene, seemingly coming from where Shiro had headed, likely being sent in as backup. He walked over pretty casually, crouching down next to Keith slowly with a groan, showing his age.

" I bet being back inside here is probably really triggering for him. Lemme talk to him." Keith nodded, looking lost and unsure what to really do. He didnt let go of Lance's arm or waist, hoping it offered him some kind of tether or support.

"Lance. It been a few years but this probably all feels pretty fresh huh? Can you nod for me if you here with us and can hear me?" Lance nodded hesitantly. "Alright. That's good. Do you want me to help get you out of here or do you want to wait until you can move?" Lance nodded again, not able to conjure up the will or energy to speak." Loud and clear, boss man." With that, Curtis grabbed Lance's other arm. Keith and Curtis helped him to his unstable feet, ushering him out of the house and onto the porch for some fresh air, Shiro met them outside with a bottle of cold water.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to freak out on you like that." Lance spoke sheepishly to Shiro. Shiro handed him the bottle of water and Lance took it.

"No need for an apology.Are you okay? Th-at looked...draining." Lance hadn't noticed but Shiro was correct. He was beyond bone tired. He was clammy and sweaty, and his chest hurt from hyperventilating but he was finally starting to calm down. 

"I wasn't expecting that. Its been a long while since the last one happened." Lance put his forehead against the railing of the porch, trying to catch his breath.

"Does this happen a lot Lance?" Keith asked with unease. Lance shrugged nonchalantly. Shiro and Curtis knew how common it could be, at least for Shiro so neither of them wanted to push the question. If he was being completely honest it took so much out of him that he didn't feel like he was able to move or speak. Keith had asked Curtis to keep an eye on him while he packed a quick overnight back. He was going to take Lance home and watch him for the night at least before he started moving all his actual stuff over there. He didn't have much from being a nomad in space but it was enough to constitute a trip or two back and forth with an extra set of hands. Curtis put his legs through the gaps in the railing, sitting next to Lance. He rubbed circles into his back and Lance just let it happen, his jaw still gripping too tight to protest. Maybe Keith had been right about him being fragile. He was so tired that he couldn't even really acknowledge Curtis. They were both being so sweet to him but he felt as if it were entirely circumstantial. If he hadn't freaked out, then their shoulders would likely be a lot colder or chipped than they currently were. Keith came back quickly tossing his bag into the car. He pulled up his mass of black hair, getting it out of his face while heading back to get Lance.

"Sorry about dinner plans but I think Lance would prefer getting out of here."

Shiro looked sad to see them go, but he placed a kind hand on Lance's shoulder. "You are w-welcome back here any time, but i don't want you to come here if it's going to hurt you. We can always meet somewhere neutral if you want, Lance. It really truly was wonderful to see you again. Why don't you go home and get some rest, and you can reach out to me any time." Lance nodded again, letting Curtis and Keith help him to his feet again. He felt a lot better than he did twenty minutes ago, but was still beyond exhausted and ready to be home.

"We got it from here Curt, thanks for your help." He scratched the back of his head casually.

"No prob Bob. I cant say it was a pleasure but I'm always here to help out." Keith smiled, taking Lance to the car and helping him in. He sighed with relief and couldn't help the few tears he let trail his cheeks. He buckled his seatbelt and tilted his seat back as far as it would go, laying down and trying to just relax the best he could. Keith climbed into the drivers seat, sighing quietly. Lance spoke groggily.

"You have questions." 

"A few, but they can all wait."

"No. You'll worry too much about it." Lance pulled his jacket hood over his eyes, tightening the drawstring. "It was a PTSD flashback. They completely wipe me, man. I used to go to therapy for it. They're kind of rare for me, but I'm also the most sober I've been today in six years so...this one was really bad."

"I'm still not letting you drink or take anything, you know that right?" Lance nodded, upset and tired." Good. Lets get you home and in bed, yeah?" Keith popped in a different cassette with much slower, pleasant music than the other stuff they had been listening to, peeling out of the driveway. Lance fell asleep in the passenger seat shortly afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Curtis isn't as bad as he can come off but i do assure you he's kind of a jerk in some ways. This chapter shows a bit of his softer side. He's a helper at heart but a lot on the judgmental side. Age and having an ill life partner has made him a wee bit cynical towards people who throw their lives away
> 
> https://youtu.be/2ECPxsVv7UQ


	8. Fleeting

Lance was unsure of when or how he had been brought inside his home, but the unfamiliar surroundings of not being in Keith's car spooked him even more for just a moment as he sat up quickly from the couch with a sharp scream. He couldn't remember what he had just been dreaming about so it didn't take long for the anxiety that came with whatever horrendous nightmare he had just had to dissipate. He ran his fingers though his sweaty, damp hair to calm himself.

Keith bolted around the corning, looking alarmed by the sudden outburst. It was clear He had come from the kitchen, being covered in what looked like flour or some other baking supply. He relaxed and wiped his hands off on his shirt when he saw Lance was okay, but he seemed to look worse for wear than when he had brought him in earlier, if he was being honest. A bit pallid and sweaty, his eyes looked a bit red and hollow. Keith tsked, placing his hand on his hip as he leaned against the doorway, he was expecting this as well. Keith didn't know what all Lance was on these days, but he assumed it wasn't going to be the light stuff. Keith didn't mind a little Mary J himself every now and again but it just wasn't the same as what Lance was doing to himself. Keith was a master of moderation and self control. He always kept his head level and his instincts sharp in case he needed to act on them. Lance was impulsive and ruled by his emotions which had always seemed to get him in trouble. Withdrawal was a given and as far as Keith was concerned he didn't have anything in his system at the moment.

Lance was hyper aware of how sober he was as well, glad he at least was able to sneak one pain killer earlier but it had been hours now. He pulled his jacket that he slept in tight around his middle, resting his head on his comforter covered knees. His stomach hurt, actually everything kind of hurt, but it was bearable. He wasn't at that point yet that he knew he would get to. He would get desperate and he was terrified of Keith seeing him like that. He was terrified of what he would do if he wasn't thinking rationally. Keith picked up an extra throw blanket from on of the chairs in Lance's living room, draping it over his shoulders and sitting behind him. He pulled Lance's head back down into his lap. Lance did so squeezing his eyes shut, not wanting to give his headache the ceiling lamp to complain about. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Shhh." Keith pressed his fingers into Lance's temples, moving them in circular motions. Lance was tense, but figured it wouldn't hurt to settle in for a little bit. It had been ages since someone just held him, aside from the rare drunken fling he wouldn't remember bringing home, but they would always leave right away anyways. Lance was sober this time. Sober and being held. He released a low sigh, loosening his shoulders and neck.

"You look like you feel like shit." Keith moved to play with Lance's curly hair instead since he decided to relax. Lance groaned in agreement."More than usual."

"I'm sobering up. I need to warn you a last time Keith...is this really what you want to do? You know it's going to be rough, right? Not like just difficult to do but...i- I cant guarantee that I can maintain my composure. I'm already...i already want to...." Lance bit the inside of his cheek, just focusing on how nice it felt to just be around someone, enjoying each other's presence, even if it were just platonic, or in Lance's mind, temporary.

"I know. And yes. I do." Wrong answer, Lance thought to himself.

"It'll be ugly."

"Well I mean I'm used to looking at your face anyways." Keith joked, hoping it would land. He was satisfied when he got hit in the head with a decorative couch pillow Lance reached above him to grab. So his sense of humor HAD stayed intact. Keith smirked.

"Im being serious, dipshit." Lance smiled subtly.

"I know, I'm just trying to lighten the mood. Lance, I really do got you. I know its going to take a lot of trust but I'll prove it to you eventually. For all that has changed, you and me being best friends and teammates never will. I'm used to that kind of ugliness by the way, Lance. It never stays that way long." Lance seemed to be content about that. Keith wanted more than anything to just reach down and kiss him. He had for the last fourteen years of his life. He would continue not to though. He wished he could just tell Lance how he really felt. He missed him and had never stopped loving him, but he also knew that Lance was not ready to live again, let alone ready to love again. He wasn't even really sure if Lance liked guys. He didn't want to be the only exception to that if he didn't. It wouldn't feel right. 

"It's been a long time for me that it has been."

"It doesn't have to stay like this. You should let yourself know that you're not going to be alone anymore for one. And you know me. I'm a royal hardass. I will force it to end if i gotta." He leaned back, relaxing into the couch. Lance felt small, feeble even, in Keith's lap. He could feel something inside himself break in that moment, feeling the gaping maw of the darkened void spilling from his chest open ever wider. He dared not let it show on his face though. He already looked tired enough to feel it freely without having to hide it. It hurt. It was a reminder of why he had done this to himself. It made him feel like a dying teenager again. It brought him to that place where this all started, desperately in need of something, anything, to drown that feeling out. He hated himself for being so weak. For caving in so hard, and for letting the void consume him anyways. It weighed his limbs down, and made it hard to breathe. He ached like he'd been hit in battle and that this was the end, though he very well knew better that he was fine and being dramatic. He would be fine if he could make it go away. It was easy. He knew how and had everything he needed but Keith would surely notice if he got high. He elected to swallow his feelings down nauseously instead. He let Keith play with his hair until a timer in the kitchen had gone off, shifting to a sitting position again to let Keith leave. Lance hadn't paid any mind to it really, but now that it had been freshly taken from the oven the whole house smelled of fresh bread. It would have been nice if he didn't already feel so overwhelmed. He got up,, pulling on his jacket and heading to sit on his porch swing outside. He lit a cigarette, pulling his sunglasses out of his jacket pocket and putting them on his face. He was really starting to feel that tug towards the little silver box he had hidden upstairs. He dipped his head, staring at his shoes fro between his knees, thanking the desert for getting colder in the afternoons. Autumn was quickly approaching as well so the bite of the cold on his skin was crisp and clear and brought him back to life in a way. He looked over his glasses without lifting his head out into the expansive plot of land his parent's ranch sat on, quietly smoking and clearing his mind. He wished he could leave. Pack up all of his shit and just run like the rest of his family had, but Lance couldn't. He didn't know why he couldn't, he just.....couldn't. Part of Lance thought it was some kind of twisted form of torture he was putting on himself by staying somewhere he loathed so much, but he was already doing what he considered the most when it came to tormenting himself. Maybe it was because it was the last thing he had that wasn't...tainted. Perhaps that is why he hated it so much. It was too pure. He let his mind wonder so long out there, staring out into the vastness, that he never noticed Keith had come out to join him with a warm slice of bread and honey. It scared him from his brooding when Keith handed him a plate as well.

"Sorry I spooked you. You should eat though. You haven't touched anything since that coffee this morning." Lance wasn't hungry, but he still took what Keith had given him, munching on it idly. "You've been out here a while." 

It was supposed to be posed as a statement but it was clearly a question."Do you want to talk?". They never had much of a conversation about what had happened earlier that day. 

"Oh. Uh. Yeah. I guess I have been." A clear "no" as Lance tried to light another cigarette. He didn't care about the chain smoking. It always gave him a proper excuse to shut up or shut someone else out. This time being moreso the later. He struggled with the lighter, finding his hands shaking again. He grunted with frustration, standing up and chucking the lighter as far as he could out into the desert. Keith watched him quietly, letting him just work through it. 

"Fuck this, man." Lance gripped the railing of the porch, screaming his frustrations out into the desert. "FUCK THIS.... AND FUCK YOU VOLTRON." Lance needed to hit something. He didn't really care what. 

"I know you can hear me." He climbed down the stairs, kicking the empty garbage can by his porch over violently, leaving a dent in the cheap aluminum. "I know that you can feel this." Lance kicked it again, harder this time, sending it across the yard a little ways. "You don't get to ignore it, you son of a bitch." Lance screamed at the sky. He collapsed with his back against the rough red sandy dirt of his yard, just looking up at the darkening abyss above him. "I feel like shit." Keith appeared above him, haloed by the setting sun like an angel.

"Are you done?"

"Im just getting started." Lance squinted.

"Ah." Keith nodded. He crouched down, gently dusting off Lance's hair. Lance stared at him intently, feeling like his heart could burst through his chest. He wasn't sure if it was from his outburst or from the way Keith was looking at him in that moment. Pretty, he thought to himself, glad he had his sunglasses to hide behind.

He was sure his face had flushed because Keith pressed his hands to his cheeks, before helping Lance sit up. If Lance hadn't notice the sweat on the back of his neck before, it was more than apparent now. One of the last things Lance had taken was an opioid. He had a tendency to stay pretty consistent with those since coming off of them is notoriously difficult. He wasn't looking forward to this but if he could manage a day or two of withdrawal to get Keith off his back, then it may very well be worth it. He pretty much always craved stimulants but could do without them. This was different. This was an uphill battle against desperation and it had only just begun and he already felt god awful. He was too enveloped in his train of thought to hear Keith talking to him or to feel himself being pulled to his feet, but once he was, he shoved Keith off. 

"Im fine. I can walk by myself." Keith held his hands up defensively, trying to act casual.

"After you then, hotshot." Lance made his way back inside, not bothering to close any of the doors after himself. He wasn't trying to be an inconvenience to Keith but he really only had one thing on his mind. He needed to get out of the house and away from everything like he had tried earlier but this time without letting Keith loop him into something he didn't really want to do. He grabbed his car keys without speaking and headed back towards the door.

"Lance where are you going?" Keith tried to get Lance to stop but was a good few feet behind him. Lance climbed into his truck, locking the doors behind him. "Lance!?" He struggled to get the key into the ignition for a solid couple of seconds, his hands shaking even more than they were before. He didn't feel right. He was shaking and itchy and hot and needed out. Oh god he just needed out. When he finally got the truck started he spent no time ripping out of the drive way as fast as he possibly could. He just needed to go. He just needed to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/OwvY2Pl3lfA


	9. Urgent

The music alone was loud enough to drown out every thought one might have at a time like this, not including the rowdy crowd that was quickly accumulating in the bar. The night was still early but it was busy enough that he could blend in. He sat at the bar, clearly going through the motions of full fledged withdrawal. His skin was crawling and he was sweating as if he was a boardwalk's width to the sun. He wanted nothing more than for his slowly building agony to come to an end. His coworker, a short and small framed blonde man named Mica, came to see him.

"What can I get for you today, Major Tom? Flying high yet?"

"The usual please, Mica. I ran out of all my good shit," Lance licked his chapped lips in both anticipation and desperation, "...and can i get a whiskey sour with that?" Lance scratched his arm, staring around the room to make sure no one was listening. 

Mica scrunched his face sarcastically, but not in an antagonistic way more than as a jest. "Rough day?"

"You have no fucking idea." Lance was dying in here. He pulled off his jacket, tossing it into the back room from across the bar. Perks of working at one was that you never had to watch your shit.

"Well thank god its Friday I guess." Mica shrugged, filling the glass and slipping a small baggie underneath the glass as he slid it to Lance. Lance handed him a bill, not caring about the change popping the small zipper packet into his pocket and downing the glass. Mica opened a tab for him. This wasn't an unusual thing for Lance to do on his days off from the bar. It wasn't like he was going to be sleeping so it was a waste of his time to go home after his day job and he could always offer up his entertainment here. Lance knew how to party and even moreso how to start one for everyone around him. That wasn't his priority now though. He left for the men's room immediately. 

Keith stood in the driveway panicked as Lance pulled out in his truck. This was bad. Keith had no idea where Lance was going. His only option was to go after him but a left turn or two later he'd lost complete track of him. Keith couldn't erase that deep sinking feeling from his stomach. It made him want to scream. He pulled onto the side of the road, placing his head against his steering wheel between his hands.

"Think idiot. Fucking think. Where would Lance go. What do we know about him? He likes babes, booze, and barbiturates"Keith counted in his fingers in front of himself, "....it's getting late..." Keith fished last year's phone book from his dashboard. He called maybe about twenty different bars and taverns before placing aside his pride and asking for help. He wasn't exactly sure if he would even be able to help, but Hunk was still his best friend....from a distance...and if anyone knew where to find Lance at a time like this, it might be him. The line rang twice from Keith's holopad before a very bearded and surprised Hunk appeared on the screen.

"Keith? My god man its been what... Eight, nine years?" Keith looked as if he were about to cry, both from relief and anxiety.

"Hey Hunk. Im sorry to call you so suddenly like this. This is a massive shot in the dark but is there any chance you might know where the fuck Lance could be? He went on this huge destructive rant, I watched him beat up a garbage can, and after he seemed fine, but then out if almost nowhere he just...ran. And i went after him and I've called like 20 bars in town and no one has seen him and im scared he's about to do something he regrets because I may have pushed him too far. I was just trying to help. God im a fucking dumbass."

"Okay first thing's first I need you to take a deep breath. This is...unfortunately normal Lance McClain trademark behavior as of late." Hunk looks at his watch, shushing a small lot of children running around his kitchen. "Its pretty late in the day. Are you sure he isn't just at work? I know you said he ran off, but he's typically pretty impulsive like this."

"He told me he had work this morning but i thought made him ditch. He was so tired and I just wanted to get him clean."

"He has a night job bartending at BellBottom's....look Keith. Its great to see you, and you don't have to be a stranger, call me any time, I mean that, but I feel like I should tell you that I think you are biting off more of Lance than you can chew. Cleaning the guy up isn't something we haven't tried before."

"Everyone keeps telling me that Hunk but....you know how I feel about him." Keith wiped his face, smudging his eyeliner down his cheek slightly. He really couldn't say he cared at the moment about his appearance.

"Still? Keith...we aren't kids anymore. " Keith furrowed his brow, feeling his temper boiling in his ears.

"You think im not aware of that, Hunk? Don't feed me that shit. I know that you're saying this with love and i appreciate it but I also didn't fucking ask. I cant help how i feel and seeing him again...well... It's not like I'm here and want to help just because im in love with him. He's also my friend and you guys have done a piss poor job of taking care of him in my absence." Hunk looked stern and saddened. Thinking about Lance seemed to have that effect on all his old friends these days.

"Its not that I don't try Keith. He's just..impossible to be around when he's like this...and i have kids. I don't want them anywhere near Lance. Im sorry. I know i sound like an asshole. He's a trainwreck Keith. A goddamned trainwreck. And i do love him. He IS my brother and I would do more if he wanted it but he doesn't. He won't put in the effort. Lance is a great guy who's been through some rough shit, but my kids...they have to come first now. It's not like I haven't sent the invitation out before, but after a while keith, you gotta realize it has to be him that wants it." Keith sighed dipping his head down in defeat. He looked back up giving Hunk a small disingenuous smile.

"You're right about your kids Hunk. Im sorry. Im just...im so worried about him. I keep getting little glimmers of hope that he's still in there. Like when he laughs at my jokes or sometimes I just see it in his eyes in these teeny tiny moments before he just looks dead again and it kills me to see the light in him fade every time i try to talk to him. I think he's on the cusp of some kind of either breakthrough or breakdown. He's ready but he's scared and has been alone for such a long time that I think it overwhelms him just to have me around let alone helping in some kind of way. I really need to go find him now though. We can talk about this when he isn't missing.... We will be talking about this when he isn't missing.... Thanks for giving me his job info."

"Yeah, bro. I just hope you find him and that he is okay....do me a favor.. And tell him I love him and to call me when he can?"

"I will. Later, Hunk."

"Bye Keith. It was good to see ya." 

Keith flipped over the yellow pages finding the number for BellBottom's bar. He wasted no time dialing the number as he drove to the the address listed in the yellow pages. If Lance worked there but wasn't there maybe one of his coworkers could tell him where he hangs out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/XqCg4sIhyFc


	10. Tension

Keith burst through the door, catching a few strange looks from the patrons of the bar. He was still a mess of baking flour and panic. He started canvasing the bar, looking for Lance with desperation, approaching the bar to ask the bartender if he had left in the time they had talked. Mica poked his head into the kitchen finding Lances things hadn't moved.

"Unless he went with someone else, he's still here. I don't think he would just leave his jacket." Mica shrugged and went back to cleaning glasses and taking drink orders from his customers. Keith brushed his surely messy hair out of his face with the back of his hand, taking another look around. He finally made it around to the dressing rooms behind the stage, hearing a sniffling in the sound dampened halls, the beat of the music coming through the floor, mixing with Keith's anxiously beating heart. He opened the door, finding Lance rocking and crying in the corner of the small room, a heap on the floor. He clutched his shirt to his chest and used his other hand to stabilize himself as he sobbed, a hunched over mess. Keith sighed a huge breath of relief in finding his friend. He rushed over to him, putting his cheeks into his palms and gently coaxing his head upwards. He was shockingly pale and his skin was unnaturally warm. Keith had his answer before he even asked, but he needed to ask. He needed to be sure.

"Thank fuck. Lance did you take anything?" Keith hadn't realized that a white hot heat was building up in the corners of his eyes. He wasn't a crier. Crying always ended up with some sort of consequence he never favored. They were alone though and Lance was already so vulnerable so what could it hurt? His hands shook with anxiety as they wiped a few stray tears from his face. He didn't wait for Lance to answer before pulling him close, encapsulating him in his safety net. He held him tightly, stroking the back of his head with gentle comforting touches. 

"I didn't use. I didn't use. I wanted to. I didn't but i wanted to. Im scared Keith. Im so fucking scared. I don't want to do this. It hurts." Keith held him tighter and closer, gripping onto his clothes like if he let go Lance would shift to dust. He spoke so quietly between sobs it was almost unintelligible. It was terrifying seeing him crumpled on the floor barely able to even breath between whimpers.

"Im so sorry. I pushed you too far and too soon. I just want you to get better. I miss your smile. I miss your laugh. I miss your dumb jokes that always made everyone laugh. I miss when there was a light in your eyes. I miss you so fucking much, Lance. I don't know what im doing. I d-don't know how to help." The tears were flowing between both of them freely now.

"I cant stop. I don't know how to stop. Please. I-I don't want to do this anymore. Im so tired. Im so lonely. Im fucking everything up all the time and no one wants to be around me. I get why. I get it. Im so fucking insufferable. Im wasting your time. I don't understand why you're not leaving me. Im so scared you will. I want you to leave me. I deserve it. Its all my fault. All of its my fault. I'm- I'm so fucking confused and scared." Keith rocked Lance, pulling his head to his shoulder with his hand, and his body cradled in his lap. He let him just spill everything he was feeling, just rocking and shushing him gently as they both cried on the floor. Lance was an absolute mess. His eyes were puffy, glossy, and red with the stinging of seemingly endless tears. 

"I wont leave you. I promised. I still promise. I could never leave you. Not like this. Not ever. Hunk loves you, Shiro loves you, Pidge loves you, your family loves you... I know it. I feel it...I love you. I love you so much that i couldn't possibly bare to lose you. Every minute I've not been with you has been time wasted. Every room I breath in without you in it is air I've wasted. I kept running from how i felt for years, convincing myself you needed space, but I should have been here. I should have been here, letting you know how much i love you every day. I should have made sure you know how beautiful and wonderful and special you are. I should have been here to make sure you felt loved. I should have been here. But i am here. Im here now, Lance. You don't have to be alone anymore. I wont let you do this alone on the floor of some bar."Lance was quiet for a long time, only permeating the air with quiet choking sobs. He reached into his pocket, forcing the small baggy in it out of his pocket and into Keith's hand, closing his fist with his own. Keith gripped it tight, not letting Lance physically see it, knowing it would be hard to let go if he did. His heart was full of both pain and pride. Holding him like this did also fill him with a twinge of concern different from what he was feeling about the situation. Lance was practically a radiator, waves of heat rolling off his body. He was shivering and breathing erratically. 

"I think i should bring you to the hospital." Lance tensed, pushing himself up on shaking arms.

"No.nonono I-. Please please no-" Keith pulled him back.

"Okay okay no hospitals but i need to get somewhere low risk where i can take care of this situation. Is there anywhere you want to go?" Keith put his chin on the top of Lance's head, still rocking him gently, afraid of what would happen if he stopped.

"Hunk's maybe?...but...his kids..they cant see me like this. I...I cant go home. I have more there. I don't want to be there. I need my brother." Keith pressed his lips together tightly, feeling guilty for having missed something in his initial sweep of the home.

"We'll go. I'll explain. Just... Im proud of you, Lance. Thanks for telling me." He was going to have to clean the house again, being absolutely thorough this time. He can't let Lance temp himself. He pulled Lance into his arms with a groan. He was feeling his age and slightly smaller stature at the moment, but he knew Lance probably wouldn't able to stand on his own and he needed the efficiency of getting out quick. He has his co-worker toss Lance's jacket on top of him before bolting out the door as his arms fatigued. He got Lance into his car, immediately calling Hunk. Lance was practically unconscious in the passenger seat, completely wiped out from his battle with himself. Hunk picked up looking overwrought on the other end. 

"I've got him." Keith tilted the camera quickly towards the passenger side.

"Sasha, he found him!" Keith could hear mildly celebratory sounds from whom he assumed to be Hunk's wife in the background. It warmed him to know they still at least cared for his general wellbeing. "Hunk, we need to talk. Are the kids around? You might want to send them into a different room."

"No im alone at the moment. Sasha took the kiddos to bed just after you called the first time. What's the prognosis?"

"Sober...but not good. He's coming down and coming down hard and I cant take him back to the house to take care of him. He says its not clean. He also said he needs you and asked for you by name specifically. He said he needs his brother." There was a look in Hunk's face that was completely unreadable but it definitely was some sort of mixed, very strong feelings he was experiencing.

"I'll make room and I'll keep dinner warm. Head on over. I'll never say no to Lance making the right decisions." Keith nodded, hanging up and kicking his car into gear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/qVdPh2cBTN0


	11. Shattered

As Lance stood in the men's room, staring at the little white bag that Mica had sold him, he tensed his jaw tightly, wishing his teeth would shatter and give him an excuse to leave. He didn't really want to leave, he just wanted to escape. He needed an escape. It would be so easy to just do it. He could go grab the things he needed from Mica and do it right here, right now. It really would be so easy...wouldn't it? He felt like shit enough to want it badly enough to buy it but there was something absolutely screaming at him not to do it. Not to chase the feeling he was after. He dropped it on the counter with a start, pushing both his hands flat over his mouth to prevent himself from actually screaming aloud. He breathed slowly and meticulously through his nose with his mouth still covered, looking at it intently as it sat on the lip of the sink, taunting him. He picked it up again, holding it carefully between his fingers. His eyes would have bore holes in it, had they the power to. He tilted the bag back and forth watching the chalky, grainy dust fall into the corners. He pinched it between his index and middle finger, propping himself on the counter with back to the mirror and held it up to the light. Why was this so hard? It was his favorite thing on earth....wasn't it? It was everything. It mattered more than everything. He knew he wanted it. He knew deep down that he was craving it and it was insatiable and would consume him entirely one day. It was eating him alive and making him feel empty and sick. It took up all the space he had left in his mind. It was there. Day, night, early, late. It didn't matter. It didn't matter that he knew it would kill him one day either. He noticed his hand trembling, focusing on it rather than the drugs he was holding. He dropped his arm to his lap, never really letting the heroin leave his sight. 

He swallowed thickly. It was heroin. Actual heroin. What the fuck was he thinking? Why was he doing this to himself again? And now he was slowly toying himself with it? None of this made sense. What's the fucking hold up? He didn't want to be here. He didn't care if he died, he just wanted to be high. High and ignorant and... alone. He gripped the bag, hiding it in his hand as another man walked into the restroom, hopping down from the counter and exiting the room. He hastily made his way across the bar room and dance floor, climbing up the stage and heading to the much more private back dressing rooms. He closed the door tightly behind him, flipping on the mirror lights to illuminate the small, costume filled room. He closed his eyes, leaning his back on the far wall, he held the drugs tightly in his closed fist, the corners of the bag poking into his hand, giving him something tangible to feel in his current numbness. He opened his palm, looking down at his hand again.

"Fuck..." His voice was barely a whisper. He slid down the wall, letting tears slowly fill his eyes. This was suicide. Every time he picked it up again he knew it was. He wiped away his tears so he could see better, turning his emotions off. He would rather feel nothing right now. He wanted nothing more than for the aching emptiness to fill him. It would make this simpler. It was always so simple. He could try to convince himself it would be the last time he'd use, but he knew it was a lie, and that he would need more the next time and the next and the fucking next. 

What would his mom think? Lance's head fell into his hand, covering his eyes as they stung with more painful tears. Why had he never cared til now? She would be so hurt by what he was doing. She would hold him and cry and tell him she still loved him though, and he would believe it. He would feel safe again. He wanted to feel safe again. He wanted his mom. Her baby boy was burning himself from the inside out, and barely even cared. Tired. Afraid. Depressed. Anxious. Traumatized. Cold. Distant. Dishonest. Dying.

"Lo siento mucho, mamá." Lance choked quietly, placing the drugs back into his pocket, feeling disgusted with himself, not wanting to see his shame presented to him. He gritted his teeth harshly, feeling undeserving of his tears. He did this to himself. He put himself here. Pity was for people more deserving. Empathy was for people with real problems. He couldn't stop his tears from falling though, no matter how hard he'd fight and attempt to feel numb again. Something inside of him had broken into a million little irreparable pieces. He was damaged goods. He remembered earlier in the day when Keith had refered to him as fragile and now he could see it. It was a wickedness. Truly evil what he had managed to do to the people he loved in the last eight years. He just kept pushing himself away instead of watching their faces warp and turn at the sight of him. He pushed and pushed and pushed. Right up to the edge of what everyone was able to handle, and then beyond that until he had completely submerged himself in the darkness of it all. It was viscous and difficult to swim out of. It was easy to blame the war, and Voltron, and Princess Allura, but Lance couldn't. Not this time at least. This was his fault, and he missed her too deeply to ever really hold what she drug them into against her. He touched his face where his marks approximately were, feeling the wetness on his cheeks still streaming. He longed for love like that again. 

He needed to get out of here. He needed fresh air. He needed to think..or stop thinking. He wanted the drugs. He wanted him mom. He wanted him himself to move but couldn't, his chest unevenly heaving in panic. He gripped his shirt and the ground, trying to grasp onto anything real enough to keep him grounded when he heard the doorknob of the dressing room turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/ZtgxwkIhH5M


	12. Open

It could have easily been two a.m. as well as five a.m. but Keith really didn't want to know just how long this day had really been. Keith wished didn't know how he managed to lose track of so much time in one day, but to say it was eventful would be a hyperbolic understatement. He was straining to stay awake with less than an hour of driving left to do before they got to Hunk's. He wished he'd known it was going to be a five hour drive. He would have stopped and grabbed a few energy drinks or packed Lance a quick bag but the risk greatly outweighed the reward. It gave him time to think anyways, which honestly he felt he needed more. He thought a lot in this time about how it felt when he couldn't stop hurting himself. Knowing Lance felt the same he did made Keith strangely feel as if he were suddenly made of glass. He took his right hand off the wheel and rubbed over his right thigh, picturing the permanent reminders left with him, telling himself that he was no longer that person, and that he was proud of himself. He wholeheartedly believed Lance could quit. He knew he could. He just needed....a wake up call? Was that what he was going to call this? He hoped. He hoped with every cell in his body, with every fibre of his being. He reached out for Lance's hand, lacing his fingers with his, not letting it distract him from the road. Lance stirred, barely opening his eyes. They were heavily bagged and hazy with withdrawal. Lance tightened his grip around Keith's fingers, holding him back. Keith's lip trembled. 

"Why did you do it, Lance? The first time i mean." He was trying his hardest to maintain his composure while driving.

"Why did you?" He whispered hoarsely, chattering his teeth. He pulled his jacket tightly around himself with his other hand. Keith wasn't expecting the question, and was taken aback for a moment before deciding honestly was the only productive route here.

"I lost Shiro. I was homeless and had just been booted from the garrison. I lashed out a lot and they cut me a lot of slack at first since they all knew him too and my family situation, but their words got to me eventually. Sometimes those cut deeper than i ever could. I thought if I could control my pain I would get to feel it only when I wanted. It didn't work like that in the end but it did at first... What's more important, Lance, is that i stopped. Im ten years cut free." Lance was tired of crying, and was sure he was probably dehydrated anyways from sweating through his clothes, but he was sure he would be right now if he could.

"....how?" Lance sounded so small and delicate. Keith rubbed his thumb comfortingly with his own.

"I wasn't alone...and i got caught by my mom. We were in the time warp on that comet and I had taken my knives and...and...She saw me. We fought. And then...these visions came to us. We saw each other's lives laid out with nothing for either of us to hide. It left us vulnerable and in a position we couldn't not talk about being in. I explained everything and she helped...make it easier. Im going to be honest with you Lance because you deserve to know what to expect. The craving never goes away. Its like grief. You never forget. You cant, and it isn't any easier when the feeling comes in to overwhelm you, but the distance between the bad days gets longer. Its the same with people. You think of them and miss them and sometimes bad days happen where they are all you can ever think about. It doesn't mean you have to destroy yourself, because next time will be farther off than the last. This shit also...isn't linear. Healing cant be done in a weekend. Its your turn to answer now." Keith's grip on Lance's hand never faltered, making him feel secure and safe to share. 

"It sort of crept up on me. I told you about the nightmares but i think it started before then. Before vol-...Voltron even... I've always had self esteem issues...I would compare myself to others constantly. I had to compete for attention as a twin in an already huge family. My...my relationship with my father was strained because I'm....we had our disagreesements. I was really close with him at the time he died... I ended up feeling this way before they passed though. I never got to tell my parents....that's besides the point." Lance coughed hard a few times, spitting into a tissue. Keith tried not to grimace but his body was so clearly rejecting whatever he had previously put in himself. It sounded painful. It probably was. "I started hanging around the wrong crowd, like i told you, doing petty crimes and stuff just to...i don't know, feel something again. Nothing big. Just graffiti, petty theft, smoking a little jay every now an again, but I don't know... Something changed in me. I don't know how it ended up getting this bad. I was in denial about it maybe? I was at a party and i was told it was molly, but it wasn't. I was just a kid. I didn't know the difference and i just wanted them to like me so i took it. It was an oxy and it was....euphoric..." Lance swallowed uneasily and looked like he was going to be sick. He gripped the door pull in front of the handle with white knuckles. 

"We can stop. You don't have to keep going, Lance." Lance shook his head, pressing his lips tightly together for a moment.

"It was the best I had ever felt in my life. It completed me. It filled that void I was so desperate to fill. It was like....love in pill form."Keith nodded.

"I can relate."

"Yeah. It only took one."

"Same. It always starts with just one. Then another. And another. And next thing you know there's no room for anything else."

"Yeah.." Lance spoke, this time softer and more doleful. He was quiet for a long time after that. Keith assumed he was trying not to ruin his upholstery, but he could practically see the steam rolling out of his ears. Lance thinking before he spoke was dangerous.

"Do you actually love me?" Lance pulled Keith's hand closer to him, absently inspecting the lines and calluses on his knuckles. Keith took a deep breath in. He did say it didn't he.

"More than life. I would trade all my time left on earth if it meant i got to spend one more boring, regular day with you. I'm sorry it took so long to admit it to you, or even myself, and you're by no means required to feel even remotely the same. It doesn't have to change anything between us. I just...always have...loved you. In many many different ways. But....i do love you....like that. If it's any consolation, I would still be here if i didn't...love you...like that, that is..." Lance let go of his hand and Keith felt his world caving and shifting under him. He understood though, or he thought he did. 

"Pull over."

"What?"

"PULL OVER NOW." Keith did as he was told, pulling into the median and stopping, flipping his hazard lights on. Lance unbuckled himself, pushing himself over the center console. "Kiss me." Keith looked at Lance, confused and shocked. "Please, Keith. Just fucking kiss me."

Keith grabbed Lance's nape, pulling him closer and pressed their lips together passionately. He closed his eyes, and Lance followed, holding on to each other any way they could. Lance whispered between breaths.

"I cant stop thinking about you." A gentle touch of his lips on his ear.  
"How much you mean to me." Tucking a strand of raven hair.  
"How much i love you too." Looking deeply into his beautifully alien amethyst eyes.

"I was happy for the first time in a long time when you came back."a hand pressed to the small of his back. Keith grabbed Lance's shoulders, his face flushed and infatuated. He cleared his throat. 

"We should really get to Hunk's place so you can rest." He was trying to be serious, but the corners of his mouth where upturned in mild celebration. "I pinky swear we will, ehem, talk more about this later when you're feeling a bit better." 

"Alright." Lance collapsed back into his seat, clearly smirking. Yeah Lance was definitely still somewhere deep down in there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/C2Jz3vMYSJc


	13. Sub Zero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I drew a line.  
> I drew a line for you.  
> Oh what a thing to do.

Hunk met the two out in his driveway, waiting anxiously for their arrival. It had been at least six months since he'd last seen Lance. It wasn't for a lack of trying more than there were few neutral places or times that they really could meet. Lance's current state of affairs was disconcerting to say the least, but there really wasn't anything he could actively do from five hours away with a family of his own. Children were a lot to handle and so was Lance. He still loved him deeply like family, though the emotional and physical distances had built a wall between them slowly over quite some time. They still tried to schedule things out every once in a while. Hunk didnt like not hearing from Lance for long stretches. He was always a worry wart, but the bad news he was always expecting with Lance would devastate him and his family if he ever got it. He was always nervous that he was going to runoff and be found dead in a ditch somewhere and the last memories he would have of him would be when he was strung out. 

When the small black sports car pulled into the driveway, Keith placed his head on the steering wheel. His body was exsaughsted of the last bits of energy he had. It had to have been very early in the morning, as the sky was just vaguely starting to lighten. Hunk knocked on the window, startling Keith back awake who had fallen asleep in the shirt time he allowed himself to close his eyes for. He rolled down his window smiling emptily. 

"Hey ya Keith. Get the hell out of the car and give me a hug already." Keith unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the vehicle, being wrapped in big warm arms like a blanket. He hugged Hunk back equally as warmly, patting him on the back when he had his fill. 

"Its been a while huh? Your hair is so long." He ruffled the half pony on Keith's head which had fallen out over time.

"And you're a father of three?" Keith shook his head, feigning disbelief.

"Hard to believe right. They're so beautiful though. I wouldn't trade being a father for anything. I cant wait for you to meet Sasha. She's going to adore you. Let's get into the nitty gritty though. We can talk about life a little later. How's he doing?" He peered over Keith shoulder with exorbitant amounts of empathy and concern. He clenched his jaw at what he saw. Lance looked feeble and weak. It wasn't the first time Hunk has seen him like this and knew it likely wouldn't be the last time, but he still hated seeing him so broken and frail. He was curled up in the passenger seat with it tilted as far back as it would go, his knees curled to his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around himself. He wasnt awake which scared him a little.

"Its not good. He actually passed out maybe four times on the last hour of the drive before we got here and didnt wake up the last time. He's boiling in there. Its like his body is just burning everything in his system out of it all at once. I was worried about him earlier but now I think I seriously need some help. I broke just about every law in this state to get here. He begged me not to take him to the hospital. I don't want to do that to him Hunk, but i will if we have to."

"Lets just get him inside and try to cool him down. We've done this before. You chose the right people to call. Sasha is an E.R. nurse and she prepped some things so he could stay here. We locked up a bunch of things somewhere safe where only the two of us know, and our house is baby proof so there's pretty much nothing he can hurt himself on while he's delirious. I'll carry him in. You look bone tired, why don't you go find a place to sit and relax. I made a pot roast and left it warm for you."

"You're a saint, Hunk." He casually waved him off, smiling amicably.

"You'd do the same for me." Keith sighed heading inside while Hunk made his way to the opposite side of the car. He was deliberate and gentle in his movements. Lance looked pale up close, with bruise colored under eyes. He was completely still aside from his shallow and uneven breathing, and when Hunk touched his face to gently shove back his hair, he knew he had to have been in the worst of it. He scooped Lance into his arms, his concern growing when he didn't respond. Lance was likely unconscious and his brain was probably melting in his skull from the way he felt. He picked up his pace, practically running into his home.

"Sasha! Grab the ice packs!" Keith stood up from the kitchen table at the sudden commotion, having just gotten settled at it, and met Hunk in the living room in the midst of the panic. He laid Lance out on the cool hardwood floor, propping a pillow under his head. He instructed keith to help him strip Lance down so they could get him cool, leaving him in only his tee-shirt, socks and boxers. Hunk's wife, who Keith was too caught up to take any notice of barreled around the corner with maybe ten freezer bags chock full of ice and handed them to the two before speeding off again to another portion of the house. Keith was unsure of what was happening, moving almost entirely on adrenaline fueled autopilot to what Hunk would tell him to do. It took a solid minute of them placing them around Lance's body before he began to stir, mostly in hazy protest, pushing their limbs away weakly, or holding their wrists but unable to keep his grip for long. He was mumbling, but neither of them could really make out what Lance was trying to say. It would have likely been an incoherent mess anyways with his brain being this fried. He shivered violently, crying while Hunk held his bulky arms to the floor. He made sure Lance could see his face. He needed him to know he was safe but wasn't entirely sure if it was registering. 

"Lance buddy can you hear me?" Lance looked at him...or through him. He could hear the words but couldnt make any sense of them. He knew he recognized the face but couldn't make his brain connect it with anyone he knew.

"I'm c-c-c-c-cold." His teeth rattled in his head and the sound was annoying him. His head pounded and ached and the air even just surrounding him felt polar. Sub zero.

"Can you tell me my name?" Hunk placed a toweled rapped ice pack under Lance's neck, lifting his head for a moment, which seem to tilt his whole world on its axis. He tightened his jaw, closing his eyes. He couldn't think. He couldn't focus on anything other than how freezing he was. Keith reached out and held Lance's hand, not knowing what to do with himself in the moment. He didn't want to let panic seep into himself. It wasn't what anyone needed right now. Lance breathed heavily through his nose.

"H-hunk?"

"Yeah great. You're at my house right now. You're safe. You're not dying. Youre not alone. We're just trying to cool you down so that we don't have to take you anywhere you don't want to be."

"We?" Keith squeezed his hand and you could practically see the tension slide off of Lance's shoulders. He relaxed his face as well, letting his eyes stay closed. Sasha came back around the corner with what seemed to be a garrison issued field medic kit. Keith got a good look at her this time. She was so different from hunk. She was tiny for one, maybe an even five foot two, if not just above it, probably around a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet and seemed to have a familiar bravery to her. She was exactly what they needed right now. A nice steady hand and heaping dose of bravery.

"Hunk your wife is a genius."

"That's why I married her." She worked quickly, finding the kit's emergency IV kit, usually used for blood transfusions on the battlefield, and filled it with cool, sterile saline. She grabbed Lance's arm, tying it off with a band under the apex of his bicep, and gasped at the crook of it quietly.

"Im not sure im going to find a viable vein here. He's really dehydrated for one but he's also really beaten up." Her voice was light and feathery and soothing. The two men looked at each other joylessly when they saw what she had meant. The insides of Lance's arms were riddled with old and new track marks. Keith guess he hadn't really realized the scope of how serious this all was until that moment. She grabbed his other hand, inspecting it gently, pressing down in various places to feel if they would collapse on her or not. She didn't want to distress Lance too much but fluids needed to come before feelings. She held the bag above her head, motioning for Keith to come hold it. He stood on wobbly legs, not realizing just how stressed out he was, and held it for her. She felt in he hand once again, squinting before an excited look popped onto her face. "Gotcha!" She but her lower lip in focus as she slid the needle into his hand. Keith had to look away, knowing he'd most likely pass out himself if he had to see it. She taped over it with some medical tape to keep things in place and asked Keith to hold still while she grabbed a coat hanger and stand for the IV drip. It was makeshift but it worked in a pinch and soon the were all hands free and utterly exsaughsted. Hunk stayed on the floor by Lance, just holding him and coaxing him to lay back down every time he tried fruitlessly to move away from the chill. Keith sunk deep into a recliner, just staring at Lance and Sasha stood, checking everything over obsessively. Keith didn't know when it started but he supposed he knew his feelings were creeping up on him and he was helpless to stop it. He leaned forward, pressing the sides of his hands to the space just under his mouth, resting his elbows on his knees. He was silent as he let tears fall down his face. Sasha took notice, stopping what she was doing, satisfied with her work anyways, and crouched down in front of Keith. She tucked some of his long bangs behind his ear. He held his breath.

"This is your first time dealing with someone like Lance, isn't it?" He was unable to really move or speak, let alone take his eyes off of Lance's arms. She rubbed his own arms up and down, comfortingly. Hunk had really found himself an amazing woman.

"I'm sorry you had to see that but I'm so thankful for your help and I'm sure Lance will be too. I know its hard to see a dear friend at an extreme low like this." Keith was too tired to take in what she was saying to him. He was emotionally drained. Today had been a rollercoaster and up until this very moment he had been completely alone in it. He couldn't imagine how Lance felt. He just couldn't. He didn't want to. He released the breath he was holding slowly.

Keith's voice came out a croaky and enervated whisper. "It's Lance. He's supposed to just bounce back." Keith pinched his eyes shut, not wanting to look at his arms anymore as an old feeling stirred up deep under his sternum. 

"Believe he will. Tell him he will. Help us make him believe he can and WILL. This next few weeks are going to be some of the hardest of his life. His brain is going to convince him of things that aren't true. He's going to say things he doesn't mean. And... Its going to hurt to watch. You need to believe deep deep down through and through that he can and will choose to bounce back, Love. Look at me." Keith did, he firmly bit the inside of his cheek to keep from losing his hold on his emotion. "I know he looks really bad right now, but we've personally seen him through worse than this. We need to keep him off the streets and just love him until he can reign himself in on his own. We will take turns watching him. He will never be alone. He is safe here. Im going to take the babies to their grandma's tomorrow where they're going to stay for a week, Hunk is staying here with you, and we can just focus on Lance. Alright?" They had a plan. It was tactical, well thought out, and squished any previous anxieties Keith had. He nodded his head slowly. 

"Thank you guys for doing this for him."

"Thank you for bringing him here, Keith. Once a leader always a leader. Its been hard getting by without you."Keith couldn't accept what Hunk had called him. He wasn't much of a leader these days. He was humanitarian,turning passive and soft. He didn't mind the change. Hunk brushed through Lance's sweat soaked hair gently, his eyes vacant and fluttering. Color was returning back to his lips and cheeks slowly, very slowly, but it was returning. He seemed more or less here now, and wasn't fighting against the cold more than he was shivering in place. He hummed once quietly, lulling his head towards Hunk with his eyes open. 

"Welcome back to the land of the living."

"I didn't OD did i?" His voice was hoarse and quiet, fearful.

"No Lance, you're actually doing good. Just a bad choice of words on my part." Lance hummed again, closing his eyes again but only for a moment of short lived peace. He felt god awful and like his body was rejecting every cell from the inside out. He sat up slowly with Hunk's help and leaned his back against their dark leather couch. He rubbed his eye before feeling a tug in his hand. He flinched, looking at it.

"Are you sure?" His voice was filled with pained emotion.

"Yeah. One hundred percent sure. Keith brought you here. You're okay Lance. I promise. I wouldn't lie to you." He handed Lance a small, clean trash bin. He clung to it like a baby koala, feeling waves of nausea taunting him relentlessly, unbelievably grateful for Hunk's preparedness this time around. He shook his head gently as if to say "no you wouldn't" before letting it rest on the rim of the bin. 

"How do you feel?" Keith blurted impatiently from across the room.

"Bad." Was all Lance could muster up before his body rejected the contents of his stomach. There wasn't much to begin with which he found extremely comforting. But it made his chest hurt and his ears ring. He honestly felt like he had been actually hit by a bus. He had reference to draw from. It was at least less painful than being dying, but it was up there. It had been two days since he had last shot up and only roughly one since his pill stash had become depleted. He thought hard about the baggy in his little silver box at home, wishing for it desperately. Anything to end the agony. Keith stood up, coming to sit behind Lance, he strattled his shoulders with his knees, and gently massaged his neck and shoulders and the image melted away. It finally clicked that Keith was here and his heart sank into his already flipping stomach. 

"I'm sor-" 

"Shhhhh. Just relax, Lance. Don't apologize." Lance wanted to cry but couldn't find it in himself to. This was a fucking nightmare scenario and embarrassment was weighing heavily on him. Keith brushed his own fingers through Lance's sweaty curly hair, gently working his scalp. It was a nice distraction from it all, pulling him away from those feelings and back to Keith. He leaned his head back between Keith's legs, looking up at him with huge pupils. The light hurt his sensitive eyes, but he didn't care, Keith hunched to look at him too. "This shit sucks, Lance. You scared me."

"I told you I would." Keith sweeped a wide flat hand over his forehead and hair. Hunk looked as his wife and she jerked her head in the direction of the kitchen. He got up and left with her to give them a moment of privacy.

"I know but I mean about today as a whole. At Shiro's house. Then again when you ran off. And...and then when you kept passing out in my passenger seat." A tear hit Lance's cheek from above and his eyes widened. Keith stopped and pressed his hands firmly over his eyes. "I just got back here. I don't want to lose you. I was so scared i wouldn't find you in time. I dont know what i would do to my..myself if..if i lost you again."

"A-again?" Guilt ran deep under Lance's warm skin like fire. It itched. Or maybe it was just a reaction, but it felt god awful none the less.

"Yes Lance. Again." Keith held the sides of Lance's face below him, his red, lachrymose, exsaughsted eyes unhidden. "We're too fucking used to putting ourselves in the line of fire and its unnecessary now. Are you not tired of it? Because i sure as fuck am. Your first time in the healing pod was days. DAYS. The first time. None of us could sleep or eat without you there. Can you please, please try to preserve yourself? We cant keep almost dying and running from how we feel about it later. I'm tired. Im tired of doing it." 

"Keith...what happened in space?" It was an unexpected question, and Lance didn't know. How, but they were all still connected somehow in the bigger picture of the universe and he felt that pang of desperate panic in Keith and knew that there was something missing from all of this. "Why are you really back?" Keith clenched his jaw and looked confused about how Lance knew. "...you said one moment happened and everything clicked. You don't spend eight years in space and just come back permanently because you miss family. What happened?" He sighed deeply and leaned forward on the bin again, feeling just as tense as before. 

"I did what I needed to do...like always."

"Not cutting it for me." Lance whimpered into the trashcan.

"I got send off to a call that a black whole spit...a certain purple fiend's ship out of the quintessence field. I went to go make sure and....well...i didn't like what I saw...or should I say what was left. There were idle sentries there that activated on my intrusion. It was a close call and it all sort of came rushing back and when i got back to the Blade I gave them my notice. He was misguided but...it was a fate no one deserved. I don't want you to think too hard about it okay? Just look im sorry about blowing up on you. Now wasn't the time to do that. It was immature of me." He averted his eyes, turning his head to the side and pulling up his sleeve to dab at the corners.

Lance leaned back again, reaching up and touching Keith's face before drawing his hand back shyly. "I'm trying... I don't want to hurt you Keith. Im really trying this time."

"I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/9qnqYL0eNNI


	14. Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not super happy with this chapter but 🤷. It's been a rough week. I adore the song from this chapter though. If y'all haven't considered listening to the playlist, it makes a good cry playlist if you don't want to relate it to the fic. Im just a music fanatic and listen to these songs on repeat while writing. Some chapters do have songs that go directly with the story but most of them are about the feeling. There's still a lot i have planned for this thing and some major plot points we have yet to get to. Its been mostly set up.

Two days later and Lance finally had the energy to move again, though he didn't. This time the force holding him down was no longer the physical effects of withdrawal, but the mental ones. He was almost afraid to move, scared he would do something irrational. He pushed his face into his borrowed couch pillow, groaning into it quietly. Keith had run off back to his house to clean the place up, and Lance couldn't help but feel the tension between the two about the whole situation. They had hardly talked since Keith's breakdown on the couch and it made Lance's heart pound with a familiar anxiousness that he was letting him down already. He was actually trying this time to not disappoint anyone, but he could now remember why he reached for it in the first place. It quenched the ache. It granted him permission to not have to feel this way. It replaces...*this*...with a lightness. This was heavy. This was dark. This was a version of himself that made him remember what the void of space was like. Or at least what it felt like while he was in it. He let a single tear slip from his eye before wiping it away and refusing any more of them passage onto his stone face, sinking the side of his face back into the pillow propped up by his arm. He was always great at hiding his despair and insecurity but now he was vulnerable. It was something that followed him as a child. He'd always had way too much to live up to and always seemed to end up falling short. This was no different. His mind was clear. He could think. He could see all his unceremonious failures laid out in front of him like some sort of twisted spider graph with himself the center of all the universe's problems. It churned in his empty feeling chest, making him feel a multitude of things, though all seemingly negative in the moment.

He couldn't even remember the last time he felt this way and rode it out. He suddenly itched all over, his skin crawling with discomfort and need. He pushed himself up on weak arms, feeling pain blossoming in his back and shoulder muscles. His dear friends kept him well hydrated but there was only so much you could so for a healing addict, and this was by no means his first rodeo. He was just sore, which he knew, but it felt so clearly like he was dying. Time slowed. Maybe it was just the first time in a long time he let himself be weak like this and really feel it. Yeah maybe that was it.

He stood, not bothering with changing his clothes or dealing with his hair or glasses. He barely bothered to open his hollowed eyes, dragging his hand sullenly down the hall out of Hunk's oldest child's borrowed bedroom, slowly observing the photos of happiness and family that hung on the yellowy beige wall. He took his time, dragging his feet like if he picked them up it would zap the life away from him. He was unsure what force it was under his itchy skin that made him move, but he was somewhat thankful as he rounded the corner and stepped into the warmth of the sunny entry way. The room was bright and full of love and warmth, along with a sparse scattering of children's toys. It hurt Lance's eyes. He sighed and continued his ghostly drifting through the home, into the living room where Hunk and Sasha both had the morning off and seemed to be enjoying it together with some quiet TV. Lance didn't want to disturb them but it was already too late, Hunk taking notice of him with a smile and then quickly letting it drop on a second glance. He knew sober Lance nearly as well as he did not-sober Lance and this was a look he hadn't seen in his face for a long time either, but it was extremely familiar. He thought back to the first time he saw that look in their shared garrison dorm. Hunk got up from his place on the couch, kissing his wife on the cheek, left to watch Grey's Anatomy reruns by herself to which she seemed rather content with curled up on the leather sofa. He pulled Lance into his side with his arm encompassing his shoulders, taking him into the kitchen across the entry way. He sat lance down at the table wordlessly. Lance stared off down at his shoes, unable to process his emotions at the moment or what quiet chaos seemed to follow him. It was apparent that mentally, he was somewhere else entirely than the conversation that was being spoken at him. He was blindly reacting to what Hunk was saying on autopilot. Hunk was speaking to him but all he really heard was the tonal differences of his words. He snapped himself back into place to look at Hunk as he said something that caught his attention, though he seemed to miss what was said in full. Hunk spoke before he could defend himself for not listening.

"-I was asking if you're feeling..you know..depressed again..." He twiddled his thumbs idly on top if the dark wooden table. "Its just...you have the look."

Lance didn't emote or change in any way for a few moments, with the exception of a small nod. He couldn't make himself speak. He didn't want to make eye contact with Hunk, feeling shameful for feeling that way. Hunk reached across the table, resting a hand on lances forearm tenderly. 

"Hey this is good. You're talking to me...being honest. What's bothering you? Tell me about it. I haven't gotten this much out of you in ages and I want to know more. I care about my best friend and want to know what's happening." Lance moved to speak but found himself hoarse. He cleared his throat, pulling his arm away and rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

"I promised Keith I would try." Lance pressed his lips together emptily. "I don't know Hunk. I don't know if i can do this. I know that you guys are here for me, but you don't get it. You cant..." Lance pressed hus fingers into his temples, leaning tiredly against the table. Hunk furrowed his brow together in understanding.

"I know, Lance. I cant begin to imagine the hell that you've been through trying to kick this. You know... Sasha tells me that addiction is a disease though. No one here expects you to have control over this. Do me a favor and try to absolve yourself of the pressure of doing this for someone else and learn that you're worthy of the help for yourself. We love you Lance. We all do. And I know you need to hear it."

"You don't think im a lost cause? That any of this is a lost cause? After all these years?" Lance sounded small and timid in his wording, knowing it wasn't coming out the way he wanted it to.

"I never have. Not for a second. Look, Lance. Im going to be real with you. The only one who can stop this is you, and that's a lot of responsibility to deal with, but you're not alone even though you feel like it. I don't know what's changed but something has. It may be you. It may be Keith. It could be anything. But...this time...it feels different. I promise it feels different even if you cant see it. Something in the way you've been acting is just new. This is what we've all been waiting for with you, and I know that its hard and you will have days where it feels impossible, but it is not a lost cause. YOU are not a lost cause." Lance stared blankly at Hunk, internally receding on himself. He knew he was an unreliable narrator, and it sounded like Hunk believed what he was saying, but Lance just couldn't wrap his head around himself having much of a future. He couldn't visualize these sorts of things. "Promise me you'll come to one of us if it becomes..*too much*. Please."

"Yeah. Yeah. I will. I just... Im.... Im losing control and its really put...putting me in a bad place. Im just thinking. A lot. And i don't like that because I can see all the ways I've fucked up and fallen short and i cant handle what my mind tells me without...with-without..." Lance took a long breathless pause, picking at his cuticles harshly. Hunk grabbed Lance's shoulders giving them a single firm jolt. He looked up and swallowed nervously. Hunk got on his knees, getting on his level to make clear eye contact with Lance. Lance feared breaking it would break the trusting atmosphere Hunk had worked to build over the last few minutes so he stayed silent and kept his eyes trained to his warm-hearted friend.

"You can Lance. You know you can. You don't need to run from it. You don't need to drown it out with alcohol or drugs. You need to feel it. You need to figure out where it comes from and tackle it so it stops. I want my best friend back and we- you are so close to bringing yourself back from the brink of oblivion. How tired are you?" 

Hunk paused momentarily before continuing, "Feel that. Remember it. Remember how SHIT the last few days have been and ask yourself if that's what you really want to feel like, because i think we both know the answer is no. Sad Lance beats out high Lance any day of the week. We will TAKE him and we will LOVE him no different than we always have." Lance listened to every aggressively spoken word before pressing his hands to his ears firmly.

"I'm afraid of change. Im afraid of nothing changing. I don't know what to do. Its confusing. I don't want to believe that you love me. I don't want it. I just want to get high." Lance pulled his legs into the wooden kitchen chair, balling himself up with his hands still over his ears. He felt a familiar wetness on his cheeks. He shook as tears spilled from his face. "Its everything Hunk. It's everything. You cant hold me hostage here. Its my whole fucking everything." Hunk was unflappable, solid as a rock, and not letting Lance go anywhere. He just looked at Lance with a clenched jaw, thinking very carefully while trying not to get frustrated that he wasn't getting through to Lance.

"Oh Lance. Its not. It just...tells you it is. It will kill you if you don't stop. I do love you. You are my family. I don't need you to believe it for it to be true and im not going to stop caring about my family regardless of what's happening in their lives. Life gets in the way sometimes but you will always have me. Don't let this monster hiding in your closet push you away from us again. We're getting too old for this and I miss you." Lance couldn't move, and in all honesty he didn't need to. Hunk wrapped his arms around Lance once again, just holding him as he silently cried for a while. 

"What if I want to die?"Lance had calmed significantly. He didn't know why he let the words slip from his mouth but he was filled with both panic and apathy when he did. He was just so tired. Hunk tightened his grip on Lance, speaking softly in the tiny space between them. 

"Why would you say something like that?"

"I dunno." Hunk just held him tightly and after an internal struggle to find the strength to move he held his hands against Hunk's back. His eyes eventually dried and so did the tear track on his face, leaving his skin feeling tight and salty where they had dried.

"I don't what you to feel like that's your only option to get out of all of this Lance. Im here offering you a way out. I just need you to trust us. God please, just trust us. Please don't do anything you'll regret." Lance wasn't going to make any promises, but he did internally note to himself that he would continue to try. It was like he lifted the some of the weight off of his shoulders, if only temporarily by hearing that he was at least wanted around. His mind raced with many contradictory and irrational thoughts but at the base of it all was Lance, rational and fighting with himself. Sasha shortly joined them in the kitchen, coming to their side to set a small hand atop Lance's and her husband's heads each. 

"Hey boys. Are you guys ready for some Lunch? I've got a shift later tonight but I was going to make something before i got ready. I've got the time." Lance wasn't sure if he was hungry or just empty but he would take it. He nodded and Sasha kissed the both of them on top of their heads, walking past and clanking pots and pans together in the cupboard. Her presence had a way of lifting the mood some. She wasn't afraid to be loud or unabashedly herself. Lance saw in every way why Hunk loved her. He used his hoodie to wipe his dry face of whatever salt he could get off, catching a sniff of it and grimacing. He really needed a shower and to do laundry, luckily enough Keith should be back the before the end of the day with some fresh clothes for the both of them. He looked forward to being able to get a hot shower instead of an ice bath for once in this house. He sighed leaning back, just trying not to feel alone for the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/RAQ_CM4Qy5Y


	15. Orange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song for this is beautiful and perfectly captures how Keith feels about Lance in this and i just found it yesterday and it made me get my ass in gear to write the rest of this chapter. There's still so much more to come from this. Nothing is set in stone yet and i feel like we're just finally scratching the surface.

Keith finished his sweep of the house gathering up anything Lance had hidden from him, placing it onto the coffee table. Lance had told him about where his drugs were hidden in the closet upstairs, but Keith was unable to trust him completely. He slowly tore the house apart, putting it back together as he went leaving no stone unturned. Light filtered through the blinds as the house resettled lifelessly. He sat down on the couch, rubbing his forehead wearily with his thumb and fingers, sweeping his hair back out of his face when he was finished. The last few days had aged Keith more than the last ten years had admittedly, at least that's how he felt. He looked at the container sitting on the table that Lance had previously spoken of. 

Who knew one silver wallet tin could cause so much anxiety and heartache. Keith had been thorough with the rest of the house and found nothing in his search, so he knew Lance was at least being honest with him now. In a weird way he was proud of him for his honesty, in other ways he knew he had Lance's life sitting in front of him, ugly and unavoidable. He picked up a pillow next to him, setting it on his knees and punched it repeatedly as hard as he possibly could until his knees beneath it hurt. He pressed it over his face and roughly growled into it. He didn't know where this anger came from, but it was old and familiar and reminded him of other ways Lance used to bring this side out of him, as much as he loved Lance he had always had a way of pushing a hot button within Keith. It drove him to do stupid, irrational things that he didn't understand why he was doing a lot of the time. He took a deep breath in keeping his composure in tact, removing the pillow and holding it to his lower abdomen. His emotions swirled like a storm in his chest, indistinguishable and chaotic. He grabbed the box forcefully off of the table, placing his other hand on the lid, hesitating for a moment before peeling it off and setting it back down gently on the table. He sat there for a long time, letting his racing mind absorb the contents of the small tin box, categorizing them into different ways it would fuck up his friend's life if allowed. An assortment of powders in small baggies, a hand full of miscellaneous pills, a large rubber band that looked to be intentionally cut in half, and needles which made Keith's stomach flip in remembrance of what Lance's arms had looked like as he lied on the floor of Hunk's living room. Keith didn't like needles to begin with, but now even less knowing the damage they've done, seeing it first hand. He was glad they were still sealed at least, not having to deal with any kind of biohazard to himself. He just stared for what felt like an eon into the blackest, deepest, emptiest pit of his friend's life, unable to completely process the swirling of emotions.

Keith wasn't sure if friend was the right word anymore. He was more than that and Lance had in some ways felt the same but there was no way Keith could be sure with how delirious he had been if he'd even remembered their kiss. He felt bad about it, almost as if he had taken advantage of the opportunity despite Lance practically begging him to kiss him back. He wasn't in the right state of mind. Maybe it was what he thought he needed in that moment, but he had no idea how much it was what Keith wanted from him for all this time. Keith rubbed over his tired eyes with his palms, trying to rid himself of the thought all together. It was getting later. The sun was begining to turn the sky a nice, easy shade of orange, and he knew he would have to drive back soon but he was at a loss when it came to knowing what to do with this stuff. He couldn't leave it here. He was afraid to flush it. He didn't want to take it to the police either, that was asking for trouble.

The idea came to him after a few minutes of thinking. There was endless stretches of desert for miles in these parts. He could just bury it somewhere in the wilderness far away from here. He didn't want to give anyone else the chance to get ahold of these things either. He didn't want to give another person the opportunity to destroy their own life. He closed the box again, taking it to the trunk of his car. He wrapped the whole thing in several layers of duct tape before throwing it into the passenger seat of his car. He packed a quick bag for Lance and then headed to Shiro's place to pack one for himself.

He entered the small ranch, finding Shiro looking at him from the kitchen table utterly bewildered.

"W-where the hell have you been? I've been trying to get a hold of you for nearly three days. Are you okay?" Shiro wheeled himself into the entry way. Keith sighed deeply, his shoulders slouching. Shiro shakily grabbed his wrists in concern, giving him a quick glance over to make sure he was okay.

"Its....i don't...know." He rushed forward, hugging his brother tightly, exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders. Shiro patted his back with a trembling but firm hand. "Lance is working on getting clean. It's been a rough couple of days. We haven't been in town. I completely forgot about my holopad, I'm sorry i scared you. I've just kind of been overwhelmed ever since ingot back. I never realized just how bad things had gotten, Shiro. It was awful. I just deep cleaned his entire house looking for drugs and i have to get rid of what i found and get back so Hunk can sleep for his shift. I need to pack a weekend bag because we've been staying at Hunk's. We don't trust Lance by himself right now."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Im glad he's trying to straighten out again." Keith cringed at his ironic wording. 

"Well...i wouldn't say straightening... We kind of...kissed."

"WHAT?!" Shiro clutched the arms of his wheelchair, leaning forward in surprise a little. There was something else there as well but Keith was unable to tell if it was anger or concern. 

"Before you say anything we haven't talked about it and he was also kind of dying from withdrawal at the time so i haven't bothered mentioning it. I doubt he was lucid enough to remember. He literally passed out in my passenger seat like ten minutes after it happened. Im starting to think it was just a massive mistake. He insisted though and i let it happen. Im just...I'm confused and...honestly? Feeling a little bit guilty. He keeps making all these promises to me, wants me to kiss him but also is constantly giving me the emotional cold shoulder and i cant tell if he's just struggling or has no interest in me. He knows I don't do the whole reading emotions thing. Everyone knows i tend to take everything at face value. Its been awkward for the last day and a half he's been lucid for. I mean...I found out he works at a gay bar...that doesn't mean anything though. He could just work there..you don't have to be lgbt to work at a gay bar, right? And with everything that's happening I shouldn't... I shouldn't even care. I should be pushing my own feelings to the sidelines to focus on helping him, but being around him is...its a breath of fresh air, but also a lungful of water. I feel like I'm choking around him because of the tension but...I want to be around him still. " Keith grabbed Shiro's wheelchair, pushing him to his room so he could talk while he packed. Shiro crossed his arms, hanging out by the doorway as Keith spoke. "Im just... Pissed at myself, you know? I should have told him we would talk about it but we were both emotional and vulnerable. I should have been more responsible than that."

"Well... I think you should talk about it. When the time is right of course. It was a bit irresponsible of you to subject yourself to that, especially in the state Lance seemed to be in, but what's done is done. Now you can only ask how he feels since you know what it is you want. It sounds to me like he wasn't using you or anything, i-if that's what you think he was doing."

"Yeah." Keith sat back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, then looking to Shiro, "Lance has always been the light of my life. He's the only person I've ever had feelings for....ever. I mostly hate other people, but Shiro...even when he isn't okay or acting like himself i still...i still think of him to pull me through the darkness. I'm in love with him. I'm whole heartedly head over heels in love with every single aspect of him even with his vices. He's in there still. I see it all the time now. I was scared that he had changed too much but he hasn't. I mostly worry that if i let myself feel that for him that he will reject me. I feel like he already has...once before."

Shiro tsked, "As your parental guardian I'm not going to sit here and pretend like it doesn't scare me what you're getting yourself involved in, but as your brother you have no idea how much it warms me to hear you feel so strongly for someone. It has been a long time since...since Allura passed. If his heart is ready to try to heal then he may be ready to try to love again. Don't sell yourself short when you don't have an answer and he's already acted."

"I'm thirty two, Shiro. Im not your kid brother anymore." Keith laughed. 

"No but i can still worry." Shiro smiled equally as big.

"Hey I gotta get going. I promise now that I've got time to slow down a bit that I'll call and check in you. Again im sorry I scared you." He leans in for one more hug after slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder.

Shiro held him for a few seconds longer than normal."Stay safe out there, Bub."

Music drowned out the hum of the old engine as he sped down the highway through town. He drove for a few miles, finding a good spot in the middle of nowhere. It was an endless sea of orange silt and sand, disrupted by the sparse saguaro cacti littering the expansive field of vision. Keith exited his vehicle, trekking into the sun baked plains. He walked a few hundred feet into the desert and threw the box with gusto and force he didn't quite know he had, straining at his shoulder slightly with the throw. The silver tin disappeared into the wilderness. He looked for it, unable to spot where it had landed and was more than satisfied with that. It wasn't that Lance couldn't get more if he really wanted, which Keith would not let happen under his watch, but a weight had lifted off of Keith's shoulders on the whole matter knowing that at least Lance's home was empty. It was strangely cathartic watching it sail into the stark wasteland.

He headed back to his car, drumming his fingers with a small smile against the steering wheel. The anxiety of his romantic emotions still held him low and that was going to have to be a conversation that was more than necessary to have, but at least after a few days he could bring Lance back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/T1pU1YGtsaA


	16. Hot Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith confess again and things get way more intimate than last time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw

One whole month. One whole month clean. He wouldn't have believed it if Keith himself hadn't told him as he groggily made his way into the kitchen for his morning smoke and cup of coffee. He rubbed his sleep sullen eyes seeing Keith already sitting at the table. He looked serious before smiling widely, the look on his face seemingly overjoyed. Lance took a mental picture of how beautiful he was in the morning light, the sun not outshining his smile. 

"What's going on?" Lance tip toed carefully into the kitchen, pouring his coffee slowly in his pajamas.

"First thing's first...how are you feeling?" Keith leaned back in his chair, twirling some of his long hair with his fingers, barely able to contain himself.

"Nervous? Fine? Why are you looking at me like that?" Lance smiled a little, leaning the small of his back against the lip of the counter. He was glad to be home and was finding himself really getting comfortable with having Keith around these days.

"Im looking at you like this because i know you haven't been keeping track and i get to be the one to tell you. You've been clean for an entire month." Lance dropped his coffee mug, it shattering against the floor. Hot coffee seeping into his slippers.

"Oh shit!" He laughed in surprise, stepping away from the mess and popping his slippers off. Keith was up immediately, checking that he was okay before crouching to his knees to pick up the bits of mug. 

"Fuck. I should have told you to sit before hand im so sorry. This was my fault." Lance bent down at the same time as Keith, finding their hands brushing against each other as they reached for the broken shards of ceramic. Lance cleared his throat and stood back up, his face flushing. 

"Don't worry about it. Im just...shocked....happy even. It's been a long time since I've felt happy. I guess it just took me by surprise. I haven't even been thinking about it really!" Keith smiled at him from his knees, pausing his cleaning efforts. He looked like he was about to cry. And then the tears actually swelled and spilled over.

"Lance, I'm so proud of you. You deserve to feel happy." And Lance's body suddenly felt very warm. He turned his head away, knowing he was blushing as he crossed his arms.

"Its nothin'." Keith stood forgetting the coffee.

"Its not nothing. It's okay to feel proud of yourself. This is a massive milestone. I know it wasn't....isn't easy." He grabbed Lance's shoulders. They looked at each other for a long moment.

"It isn't. It's hard to feel like I've really accomplished anything." They were so close, Lance wanted to kiss him again. He swallowed, remembering Keith's initial hesitancy, anxious that he had crossed a line in his desperation to touch him the last time they had. Yet...he did kiss him back and they shared those words. Those cruel and vulnerable words. I love you. He was unsure Keith even had any interest in men. Keith never had any interest in anyone. Lance didn't necessarily believe himself worthy of getting past Keith's hard exterior. But yet... He said those words. Lance absently lifted his hand to touch Keith's cheek, running his fingers back against his jaw until he rested the tips against his hairline, his thumb brushing over the slightly lighter, smoother skin of his scar. It was second nature to hold him this way, his other hand finding the same place against the opposing side of Keith's face. Lance snapped out of his state at the sudden flush he was met with and the confusion in his eyes when those met as well. He quickly removed his hands. "Sorry." He was suddenly feeling cramped in the space, wanting to flee, but Keith held his wrist, not letting him go as he tried to walk away.

"Lance...are you...do you...? I'm confused."

"Im not." Lance spoke so quietly that Keith would have missed it if he had been breathing. He turned back around, his face stoic and unreadable.

"You're not what?" Keith studied his face desperately.

"Confused." Lance chewed dryness from his bottom lip. Keith tucked some of his long black mop behind his ear, his bangs still falling in his face.

"Are you...how do i put this..." Keith pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Yes. Yeah Keith. It took me a while to accept it, years really, but I'm bisexual. I should have told you earlier but I assumed you knew..from the kiss..."

"And...do you...feel something...for me i mean?" Lance wanted to run. He wanted to get out of there. He was terrified to answer, afraid of rejection.

"I don't want to ruin our friendship...but yes." Keith held his wrist firm.

"So you remember the kiss huh?" He looked at the floor, his face still flushed, his thumb gently grazing the skin of Lance's wrist.

"Best and worst night of my life. How could i forget it?" Lance chuckled uncomfortably. Keith smiled.

"God I'm so stupid. Oblivious and stupid as shit. You'd never do that unless you meant it. I thought you just needed someone ...anyone. You literally told me and I got so wrapped up in what was happening that i completely forgot you told me, Lance. I don't know how to say this other than just telling you, but I have been waiting for that kiss since we were sixteen." Lance's legs suddenly felt like jello. Keith wasn't the oblivious one. Lance punched Keith's arm playfully.

"You're oblivious? I thought you were rejecting me just now." He said aggressively before grabbing the collar of Keith's shirt, pushing him against the kitchen counter behind him, his aggression melting into something else entirely. Keith lifted himself up to sit on it, putting his face just barely above Lance's. He pressed a hand to Keith's back and the other against the nape of his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. He kissed the borders of Keith's face, moving to his ears and down his neck. Lance slipped his hand under Keith's shirt, feeling his firm back with his calloused fingertips. He spoke into the crook of Keith's neck.

"I told you I loved you because I do. I wasn't expecting anything from you when I said it. Im sorry I wasn't more clear." Keith's breath caught in his throat as Lance bit lovingly at the skin of Keith's throat. Lance was touching him in ways he had only dreamed of. Lance was a bit more animalistic than Keith had imagined he would be, but he definitely wasn't complaining. Lance pulled him forward with one hand, cradling the small of Keith's back. He gripped the sides of his thighs and Keith followed suit by wrapping his legs tightly around Lance's waist. It was effortless to Lance, or at least it felt like it was effortless to Keith who was swept right off the counter and into Lance's arms like he weighed practically nothing.

Everything about Lance seemed so firm, calculated and rigid now, it was hard to believe only a month ago he was a broken mess on the floor begging for a means to an end. Keith bit lip as his shoulders made contact with the seat of the couch, his legs still around Lance's waist, his hips being supported by the arm of the couch. Lance pulled off his shirt, showing the culmination of years of training paying off. It wasn't the first time he had seen lance shirtless, but Keith hadn't taken to time to appreciate it, really. Now that he could, Lance was practically an Adonis, and now that his skin didn't seems so dead and lifeless, like it was just meant to hold his fragile body together, it really showed how hard he worked to stay in shape, no longer hidden under layers of baggy clothes and exhaustion. Lance placed his arms on either side of Keith's head, leaning over him.

"You are so beautiful." Keith's face was a tomato and he was sure that Lance could feel how hard he was getting through his thin skinny jeans. Keith placed his hands in front of his face, trying not to laugh or get embarrassed or nervous. Lance smiled coyly. 

"Permission to continue?" He asked in his deepest gruffest voice, grazing his teeth seductively. Keith nodded, peeking through his fingers. Lance trailed his fingers up under Keith's shirt, slowly pushing it up to rest just under his arms. His hands were rough and worn but felt gentle and tender against Keith's pale skin. Lance pressed this hips against Keith's, separating his legs with his knee. He gently pecked at Keith's chest, he felt half bad about Lance doing all the work, but he wouldn't have really know what he was doing anyways. He was rather...distracted at the moment with the attention Lance was giving his chest. Lance reached down, rubbing his hand over the bulge in Keith's jeans. He push his hips into Lance's hand with a groan, pinching his eyes in surprise at the touch. Keith made a noise and knew he must have looked pretty florid if he hadn't before. Lance kissed his cheek. 

"I can slow down if you want me to." 

"No! " Keith's voice came out garbled with salacity. He cleared his throat once, gaining his composure back a little, placing his hands on Lance's shoulders. "No. Its just...m-my first time. Im a little nervous and i- i don't know what to do with my hands." 

"You really have been waiting all this time, huh? Well no matter. I'll take care of you, just try to relax and you can touch me if you want. The only place I don't really love when people touch is my back, but I'll make an exception since you literally cradled me in your arms when I scarred it. Don't be afraid to tell me what you do and don't like or if you want me to stop...and you can make noises by the way. I don't mind hearing them." Lance joked around trying to comfort Keith a bit from his nervousness. He sort of couldn't believe that someone as beautiful as Keith would have honestly waited for him, but knowing Keith, he was serious and Lance would return the favor of taking him seriously. This was probably a lot for him and he was going to do his absolute best to make it as enjoyable as possible. 

He moved slowly, reading Keith's face as he took moments to continue kissing his face. It was much more gentle than how they had started out. It didn't quell the flush in Keith's face as Lance continued, rebuilding him to where they left off. He placed his lips repeatedly against Keith's clavicle moving his way downwards ever so slowly, using a free hand to pop the button on Keith's jeans. Keith gasped, feeling Lance's hand on the zipper. It was tantalizingly slow how much time Lance took to move on to the next task until Keith seriously considered begging him to just touch him already. He didn't know when he had become such a whining, impatient mess but it was clear Lance was experienced. Lance really knew what he was doing, taking more than enough time to tease Keith through his jeans and boxer briefs. After a few moments of rubbing his hand against the rough denim, he slid his hand into the loosened waistband over Keith's underwear. As Lance grazed his hand over Keith's manhood he moaned loudly, surprising both himself and Lance, who suddenly had a dubious look about him. He did it once more a bit slower, teasing Keith a little. Keith panted, trying to catch his breath which seemed to be shuttering with anticipation now.

"Quite worked up arent we? Want me to do something about it?" He drug his hands down Keith's sensitive body, digging his nails in just slightly. Keith closed his eyes and nodded vigorously rolling into the touch. Lance pushed his hand over Keith one more, his hips bucking equally back with a sharp whine. Lance stood, grabbing the sides of Keith's jeans, inching them downwards. Keith strained against his pants until he was free of them, his wood fully erect and practically throbbing. Lance touched the head of it gently and Keith's breath hitched before he felt Lance kiss near the base. Keith groaned again, pushing himself up on one arm and firmly gripping Lance's hair with the other. Lance growled at the hair pulling, deeply enjoying the way Keith's hands felt in his hair. He spit into his hand, not really having any lube on hand since he didn't exactly plan on entering Keith this time around. No need to overwhelm someone their first time with unnecessary prep. He would talk to him about it later. He wrapped it loosely around the bottom of Keith's shaft, drawing his lips up to Keith's head, licking the length.

"Oh F-fuck." It was music to Lance's ears. He had always loved Keith's voice, but this...this was entering nirvana. This was a whole nother plain of existence. It came out as a strained breathy whisper and Keith would have been embarrassed about it if his mind wasn't completely muddled with the lewdness of it all. Lance looked up at Keith as his tongue made its way tantalizingly around his head before he sunk down on it, moving his hand to meet his lips. He stopped momentarily to throw one of Keith's legs over his shoulder before continuing. It went on like this until Keith felt a tension in his core build and bubble over. His whole body was shaking with desperation. His grip tightened in Lance's hair, causing him to groan once again at the tight pulling of it. 

"L-Lance, fuck I th-think..." He didn't get to finish his sentence before he threw his head back, feeling his body tighten as his breath caught in his throat. He fell back onto the couch, his arms too wobbly to gold himself, roughly trying to catch his breath. Lance was more than satisfied with the reaction, smiling widely as he climbed on top of Keith once again. Keith could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He knew if he stood right now that his legs would feel like wet noodles. He twitched in place for a few minutes as he cooled back down, Lance gently toying with his bangs, tucking and placing strands in between cheek and neck kisses. 

Keith couldn't think and didn't want to move, "wow." Was all he could muster up after a few minutes causing Lance to chuckle.

"So that's it huh?" He lifted Keith's neck to his lips, Keith letting his head lull back.

"Wow." 

"Oh no I broke him." Another gentle kiss to his throat, moving over the bruised bits more gently.

"Uh huh." Keith's face was still red but this was much more of a glow in his cheeks than his whole face. Lance couldn't believe that he just scored with Keith Kogane. The Keith Kogane. And even more so it was more than just sex. It was more than just scoring. This was driven by love, by passion. 

"Is it safe to call ourselves boyfriends now?" Keith finally spoke his first coherent sentence. 

"If you want that then I do too." 

"Yeah.. Id like that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/EPWVBLXDlZQ


	17. Hand over Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the only chapter named directly after the song but when i say im obsessed im OBSESSED. The mood of it is just so perfect for the chapter. I really hope y'all are enjoying this.

So boyfriends. Keith liked the sound of that. It was something he had craved for a long time but that wasn't to say there weren't going to be hard days. Today was one of those hard days. Keith woke up next to Lance in their bed in the room downstairs. It had been a week since they had started sleeping together and Keith thoroughly enjoyed closing all the little gaps in their lives. Lance made intimacy easy and Keith surprised himself with how much like a cat he was, just so happening to linger in the same room, or finding himself following Lance around from room to room. It was honestly amazing how few of Lance's habits had really changed over the years, doing the same little noticeable quirks from years back that made Keith fall in love with him in the first place. Things had been a breeze so far, but the fragility of Lance was more than evident as well. 

Lance was already awake, clearly forcing himself to keep himself that way. Keith knew just from looking at him that he had never quite slept at all. He had that same heavy look as he had before he had focused on getting clean, the bags under his eyes a deep bruised color and the color drained from the rest of his face. Keith ran his fingers through Lance's hair, surprised when he flinched away from it, apologizing quickly after under his exhausted sounding breath.

"You can talk to me. It's okay." Keith wrapped an arm across his bare chest, pulling himself closer into Lance's side. He just quietly kissed the top of Keith's head. 

"It was just a dream. Its no big deal." Lance rubbed his eyes with his rough hand.

"Nothing is ever a small deal with you." Lance made a hurt face, not the reaction Keith was looking for. 

"Hey." He sat up over Lance trailing his jawline with elegant fingers. "That's not a bad thing. You just feel strongly. I love that about you. Please tell me because i know you didn't sleep last night. I promise you're not burdening me. Im worried." Lance just looked sort of dead behind the eyes and it unsettled Keith. There was a long pause of hesitation before lance reluctantly spoke.

"It's not going to get easier. It's just trading off one kind of pain for another and I don't know if I can do it because it hurts worse this way. The the the.." Lance sputtered miserably, "...the nightmares arent always nightmares. Sometimes it's memories and I can't leave them even though I'm awake. I can't feel my body. It just becomes kind of numb, like my soul leaves and I'm stuck in another timeline experiencing the worse moments of my life over and over again."

"Did it happen last night? Is that why you're telling me this?"

"Y-yes. It was bad. I couldn't... I couldn't breathe and I wanted to hold your hand but I couldn't move either. Sometimes I cant move because I'm scared. Other times I think its because I'm physically or..or mentally not here, you know? When it stopped I still couldn't move because my brain tells me things... Like that you'd be angry with me or that you're sleeping and it would be rude of me to wake you up... Or that I'm weak and deserve to feel and see those things. I know deep down it's not true but...it still stops me from getting help when its what I want." Keith laid his head down on top of Lance's chest, wishing to be closer to him, hearing his heart beating.

"Well I am here for you, you know. Im not going anywhere. How often does this happen? "

"I don't know. A lot more when I'm sober. Its kind of hard to pinpoint how often. Sometimes it's constant other times it doesn't happen for days on end. The last time you saw was at Shiro's but pretty much anything can set it off and ita happened between then and now quite a few times. I'm good at masking it in public but im always exhausted afterwards. Sleeping is impossible when it happens more than once in a day. Its pretty much a guarantee that I'm going to have nightmares. The worst kind. I know it's probably h-hard to hear but this time...you were all purple like like...and and...your eyes were glowy and your t-teeth-"

"Shhhhh. Take a few deep breaths. Relax. I promise you that will never happen. Never. Never ever. I would never hurt you Lance. I know that doesn't fix it or erase how it made you feel but I would never lay a hand that wasn't meant to be loving on you." Keith kissed Lance's tired, tanned face. "I'll always protect you. I know you would do the same for me. We're a team. You can trust me."

"Everyone leaves me. How can I trust you?" Lance's eyes filled back up with pain, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek until he could taste hints of copper. Keith felt nothing but empathy for Lance. He remembered vividly what it was like when he had no one to call his family, before Shiro took him in, when he was hunkered down in a rickety old desert shack feeling the exact same way. Completely alone and afraid to speak to anyone who could change that. He swiped his thumbs gently under Lance's eyes, admiring the deep stormy blue color of them, equally disturbed by the redness surrounding them.

"I know they have. I know. And it pisses me off to no end that anyone ever could. But I've been here through the darkness and we have so much more to experience together. I will help you pick up all the pieces. Let me help you make it make more sense. It will be easier to do together. Why do you not trust me?" Keith didn't say it feeling hurt. If anything he understood what Lance was really trying to say. It wasn't an issue of trust but of vulnerability.

"I don't want to trust you because what if you're wrong and all of this was for nothing and I opened up myself just to get hurt again. It will be my fault." Keith pressed his left cheek to Lance's right, wrapping his arm under Lance's shoulder, holding him tightly and being sure to leave room to whisper into his ear.

"The last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you. I'm in love with you. All of you. Even the broken parts that tell you these untrue things. There was a time where I had to accept that this would never happen, and I also chose to never give up or let go of you despite how much it hurt that you didn't see me the same way, resigning myself to never loving again and I was completely okay with it. Why would I ever let go of you now that I have you? This is the best thing that's ever happened to me. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me. You're my air when I cant breathe. Let me be yours. Allow yourself to be loved. Let me love you." Lance placed a trembling hand against Keith's back, closing the gap of touch between them.

"I think I should get therapy. It's getting unmanageable. I feel like I'm drowning." Keith kissed his ear, breathing low through his nose. Lance felt alive again, just focusing on the small, warms stream of air. It had been ages since he was even able to just tell someone how he actually felt. Keith took the weight off, at least some of it, promising to help carry the weight of the world on his shoulders too. He didn't feel alone. It was still hard. It still felt like he had been punched in the chest and all the air had escaped him. It still felt like his skull was being smashed in. It still felt like he was miles under the water, shrinking under the pressure, but Keith was there. Keith would hold his hand and tell him to keep pushing forward and it was more than he had in years. He would be okay. 

"I agree, and if it ever gets to be too much, I'll go with you. Together, Lance."

"Yeah, together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/ofNPHLwSYXQ


	18. Old Dogs Old Tricks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the spelling errors. Most of them are minor but i know how annoying that can be. My dyslexia has been god awful the last few days because of sleep deprivation lol. I'll get around to editing it later when mt eyes start functioning again.

Seeking out help was terrifying. Lance hated talking about his past. The careful avoidance of it was what drove him to starting drinking and doing drugs in the first place,unable to deal with the roaring beast that was post traumatic stress disorder. Luckily enough Keith was great at giving him the space he needed to breathe when it was necessary, and was equally as good at closing the gaps when space wss the last thing Lance needed. He never pried, or dug, or tried to get in Lance's head without his permission. Sure he had questions, who wouldn't after seeing the things he's seen from someone he used to think was so normal? But he was careful and never made Lance feel like he had to answer directly if he couldn't handle forming the words to describe how he really felt about it all. It was a lot these days that Lance seemed to not have the right words for what he was feeling.

Its been overwhelming to bare alone say the least but the fewer people who knew, the fewer there were to worry about it, which is the way Lance preferred. Finding the exception in Keith was a massive relief at times. The nightmares and lack of sleep were such a small portion of the hell he dealt with on a daily basis. Keith would pretend not to notice the tremble in Lance arms and knees that would start at the drop of a hat, and Lance would pretend not to notice him noticing that he was like this on his bad days. On his worst days he had no control over hiding what was happening to him. His fingertips would tingle and the temperature of the air would change around him, either brimstone hot or bone chillingly frigid. His vision would go white and he'd freeze, going unresponsive. It always managed to scare the ever loving shit out of Keith, which of course Lance always felt guilty for. The only thing that would be worse is when Lance would melt into a full blown panic when he came back, not being able to speak or breath. It didn't happen every time but when it did he would claw at his clothing, claiming it to be too tight instead of his own body restricting him, sometimes he would just stop breathing all together until he'd get floating spots in his vision and Keith would make him. It was always harder to calm him down when he couldn't fill his lungs enough. It was always exhausting no matter which result he ended up with.

Lance had recently decided he didn't like being out at night. Seeing the stars set him off too easily now that he was aware enough to notice them. He didn't know when that started. Probably pretty soon after he stopped the drugs. There were a lot of things that set him off without the drugs that he used to be too hazy to acknowledge. The first month was sort of a blur but now he was well into his second he was able to scope out much more effectively the trauma he had suffered and how much the drugs really tampered those feelings without him even realizing.   
It made working impossible. The bar, being privately owned, gave him all the time he needed, but his likelihood of ever going back was extremely low. The risk of exposure was too high and he wanted more than anything to just not fuck up for once. His other job had fired him the day Keith showed up to take care of his drunk ass since he didn't bother to show up or call in. He wasn't mourning the loss. His bills we're not stacking up though. Keith picked up the slack for them both and Lance, as bad as he felt that he once again wasn't contributing, was eternally grateful. Keith wanted nothing more than for recovery to be the only thing he needed to worry about and Lance couldn't agree more. He was still receiving retirement checks from the garrison, which he had hoarded since earth money doesn't do much good in space. They were still working on setting up GAC conversion centers on earth, but there still weren't many people traveling through space these days. Keith was working on making arrangements for Lance as well but his history of misconduct with the Garrison was making things more difficult than he'd expected things would be. None the less they weren't hurting financially.

This also meant downtime. Hunk and Sasha had made the effort to visit a few times, which was incredibly rare and always welcome. Today though, Shiro had offered to come by for dinner and Lance practically jumped at the opportunity. It made Keith's heart race to see him so happy about a visitor. He beamed when Keith told him that Shiro wanted to come over since it would be a neutral space. Lance had always liked Shiro, looked up to him like another brother. He reminded him a lot of Luis. Luis was always so responsible and always looked out for everyone around him. He missed his family, remembering a time long before the war when they were practically an inseparable unit. 

He shook the thought away, sweeping the porch ramp free from any debris, thankful that the house was equiped for his Pop-pop's low mobility ages ago. He admired his handiwork, somewhat proud he was actually able to get something productive done. Keith joined him, slinging his arms around Lance's neck. His heart never ceased to flutter in his chest at these small intimate moments. Keith hummed and swayed happily, prompting Lance to prop the broom against the railing of the porch deck. 

"We should tell them today."Keith hummed in agreement.

"I was thinking the same thing. Im a little worried about it though. I just don't want them to think I'm jumping into this too fast." Lance chewed on his lips a little, radiating anxiety.

"You're not feeling that ways, are you? We can always slow down if we need."

"Nah. Why would i ever want to slow down when it comes to you? I've been waiting on this too damn long." Keith rests his head against Lance's shoulder, wrapping his arms under Lance's, resting his hands on the back of his shoulders in a close embrace. He plants a kiss against Lance's jaw and he returns the embrace, picking Keith up and swinging him around with a small chuckle.

"That makes two of us. So we tell them." Lance placed a small peck against Keith's nose before setting him back down.

"Alright. Its settled. I came out to ask what you wanted, but Curtis texted me right before saying he wanted us to cook together and that he's bringing something so im going to hold off for a bit. You good on waiting?"

"Yeah im fine with that. Im probably just going to sit out here and have a smoke. Its nice out and I want to soak it in."

"Sounds good. Im going to go finish cleaning up the kitchen. Hey?" Keith peaked around the edge of 

"Yeah?"

"I love you." Lance beamed every time Keith said it, and it made up for every low Lance was embarrassed Keith had to see.

"I love you too."

Thirty minutes and two cigarettes and a jacket later, Curtis's van pulled up. Keith coming out of the house to join Lance once again.

"Curtis just texted me to come out here." Keith looks at his phone inquisitively. Next thing he knows Curtis is at the passenger door, holding Shiro lightly with a gait belt. Keith froze with tears in his eyes a d his fingertips pressed to his lips. Shiro stepped out unsteadily on crutches, taking a few carefully calculated strides.

"Oh my GOD. SHIRO!" Keith spoke in a shrill wail. "Is this why you insisted on coming over here today?" Shiro smiled widely, clean shaven with a fresh haircut as well. He looked like himself, Keith though. He was struggling, but standing mostly on his own, Curtis really only spotting him.

"I wanted to surprise you. It was a lot of hard work and miracles to get here. Months of physical therapy with the treatments right under your nose." Keith stepped off the porch, gently hugging his brother with the utmost delicacy, like he was made of paper mache. He wiped his eyes free from tears.

"Look at you!"

"Bonkers, right? Like a twenty year old chihuahua that just wont die. L-Lets hurry up and get inside so I can sit down though. I'm getting a little tired." Keith laughs, smacks his forehead.

"Duh of course, come on in guys. Lemme get these for you." Lance hops up from the porch bench, helping out by grabbing to groceries so Curtis doesn't have to make two trips. As he passes back through the door, he finds Shiro sitting on the couch and joins him, turning on some sports game he would rather not pay attention to for background noise. Shiro speaks to him softly, not alerting Curtis or Keith as they file into the kitchen.

"You look good, Lance."

"You do too.... I feel good. It's been hard but...worth it." Shiro pinches his brows together like a parent. Lance missed receiving this look. Approval.

"Are you doing okay? Things were pretty rocky last time we spoke. If seeing me is hard you can let me know. I was hoping meeting here would be easier to handle. I know my place is kind of tarnished for you." Shiro placed his crutches next to him against the arm of the couch, shifting his weight so his arm rested against the back.

"No no. This is fine. This is good. Im not exactly where I'd like to be emotionally, but I'm really glad you're here. I was excited to see you somewhere comfortable." Shiro squinted in concern.

"What do you m-mean emotionally? I don't want to probe, but I've been worried about you. Keith told me about your visit to Hunk's place and you've been on my mind ever since."

"Well..." Lance shifted uncomfortably. "If there was anyone who'd get it, it would probably be you." He rubbed the back of his head, resting his hand on his shoulder. He took a deep, steady breath in.

"Now that I'm not...well. Now that I'm not high all the time, I'm...struggling with...war stuff."

"Oh Lance-" Shiro's voice dripped with what Lance couldn't decide was either empathy or pity.

"-and, and it's somehow worse than it was before I ever got into this mess in the first place. I don't know if I'm just extra sensitive or if my brain is fried or what, but it's pretty debilitating. Just about everything sets me off"

"You've had this happen before?" He rests the hand that was on the back of the couch against Lance's back, he suppresses the urge to flinch but knows Shiro still felt it, giving Lance time to melt into the touch.

"Why am I just hearing about this...You spent all those years battling this alone? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to seem weak. I was just a kid you know, and an angsty teenager at that. My self esteem wasn't as great as I made everyone think it was to begin with and Vol..Voltron made it worse. I wouldn't trade the mission for anything but it left me really scarred. You need to be a good actor in order to function in a large family so no one ever suspected I wasn't feeling right. I hid it. I had it in my head that if I spoke about it that everyone would hate me and not want me to be a part of the team anymore. I ended up self destructing because I could either to it myself or risk my friends doing it for me. My therapist says that it was all about keeping control which I guess makes sense. If I pushed myself away I could convince myself whatever I was doing was justified and no one else would try to stop me if I made myself unbearable to be around. I already felt like I was. The pressure was immeasurable and i know i wasn't meeting the standard and when things started getting serious and i lost my connection with B-Blue all the rejection and pressure and significance of what we were really doing settled in and it started taxing me in a way I was too busy to realize. When you were...gone...things were the hardest or so i thought and it got better for a little bit but then everything just tanked and went downhill so fast." 

"I see and I can relate. You know how tumultuous my history with PTSD is. Its always an uphill battle but not being alone is important. Im glad you felt ready to tell me about how you feel and I'm sorry for anything that piece of shit clone did to you. I've got to be honest, Lance. I've been pretty angry with you for a long time, holding onto some of the things I saw you do, but Keith woke me up and i haven't been fair to you. I couldn't understand why you did what you did to yourself, but...this puts a lot into perspective. There's been times when I too would have done anything to just soften the blows." Lance laughed solemnly.

"Yeah that's exactly it. It feels like being beaten up. Watching you all leave me killed me in a lot of ways, but it still wasn't the wake up call I needed. Knowing you and Hunk can both forgive me for all the horrendous shit I've done gives me a lot of hope that I'll be alright eventually, if I can't be right now. God, and Keith has been...something else. A force to be reckoned with. I owe him my life. I wouldn't be here right now if he hadn't showed up. I was begging for things to be over in any way possible. Id sit up all night and fantasize about all the ways I wish I'd get taken out because I was too scared to do it myself. I didn't realize that I already was killing myself, just more slowly than how other people normally do it. I don't feel that way anymore, though it's still a fight to get out of bed most days. You know... I think that's the first time I've ever told anyone besides Keith that. Its getting easier to talk about these days." Shiro smiled softly at Lance, feeling like he was seeing a part of Lance he hadn't in a very long time.

"You're certainly not alone. There's a lot of us old, worn out, well-seasoned dogs out there. I want you to know that I've been in your shoes more than once, sans the drugs, I don't have much knowledge about it, but I'll always be safe for you to talk to, in a neutral p-place of course. This old greybeard has seen his own fair share of weak moments. You're not a weak man for having weak moments, Lance. Were just a little fucked up and that's alright." He firmly patted Lance's back, letting his arm rest there when Lance relaxed back into it. 

"This feels like the old times...but in a good way. I sometimes forget there were good times then."

"There certainly were. All in all we had a pretty good thing going between all of us."

Lance sighed, standing up and stretching loosely.

"Thanks for the pep talk. Im gonna go see what the guys are doing in the kitchen, wanna come with? I'll spot you. Keith and i kind of want to talk to you both anyways, but it can wait until dinner if you want to hang out here."

"I wouldn't mind coming with. The doc says the more I move the easier it will get as I build the muscles back up. It just wears me out so easily, so its gonna take me a bit. Standing is the hard part." Shiro grabbed his crutches, placing his forearms into the round elbow support. Lance helped hoist him off the couch, spotting him from behind as they took their time getting to the kitchen, gabbing and joking along the way. The smell of garlic drifted through the air and Lance's eyes widened as they rounded the corner.

"ARE YOU MAKING GARLIC KNOTS!?" Keith laughed brightly, turning to Curtis.

"You owe me five bucks." Curtis rolled his eyes, pulling out his wallet reluctantly.

"You didn't answer my question!" Lance wanted to grab Keith and kiss him when he said yes, but refrained from touching him too much. They'd have to gauge the reaction from Keith's guardians first.

"I certainly am. We are celebrating tonight. Curtis is teaching me how to make osso bucco."

Not cracking a joke was difficult. Wow keith you sure know the way to a man's heart. I could kiss you but that would be gay. That isn't the only thing i want in my mouth tonight. Etcetera. 

Lance helped Shiro into a seat in the kitchen, high fiving him.

"Booyah. You've got this shit down pat, Takashi." Shiro smiled again, relaxing in his spot.

"You flatter me Lance."

"Its what Im best at." Lance held up a peace sign and winked, feeling much more like himself than he has in a long time. 

"What else smells good? Is that the bookoo ookoo?" Keith laughs brightly again and Lance adores the sound.

"Osso Bucco, dumbass, and yes. Curtis is an amazing cook. I don't know what Shiro would do without him. He put ramen in the microwave dry once and almost burnt down the house."

"Yeah yeah, same difference." Lance dramatically waves a hand dismissively.

"That was ONE TIME, Keith."

"Yeah but did you ever get any better at cooking?"

"..."

"The silence is telling. Is that why you learned to bake, Keith?" Keith nodded excitedly.

"Yep! I had to figure out some way to keep us alive."

"Hey at least now I have a hot husband that can cook and an incredibly valid reason to not be allowed to carry knives." Shiro joked

"That's so not funny." Keith tried not to laugh, himself, feigning offense.

"So what exactly is this big news you two want to share?" Curtis thrummed his fingers against the top of his crossed arms.

"Oh. Yeah." Lance paled and Keith swallowed nervously, making his way to place an oven mit covered hand against Lance's arm and his other on his shoulder.

"Lance and I decided that things would be best for the both of us if-"

"Shiro I'm asking permission formally to date Keith." 

Curtis sat down his spatula in shock, stilling himself. Shiro moved to speak, getting cut off my Curtis.

"Do you guys think that's the best idea? Don't get me wrong you're both consenting adults and I'm not here to stop you, but don't you feel like there's work that needs to be done before you jump into getting serious with each other?" 

Lance choked on his words.

"Oh come on now, Curt..." Shiro spoke softly, but firmly.

"Look I don't want to be the asshole here, but someone needs to say it. Keith you've always been goo goo gaga for Lance and I know, Lance, if you're asking us that you're taking this seriously, but being honest I feel like only being two months clean isn't enough time to have your shit together enough to worry about someone else's feelings and needs. From what I hear and from what I've personally seen countless times, I don't think I trust you quite yet to not be a bad influence. Keith is an adult but I still have the capacity to care about his well being before yours. I know I haven't known you as long as everyone else, but I do know you... Well enough to have seen you slip up more than once. Not to mention your reputation with some of the guys around here. I just worry that you're intentions arent where they're supposed to be and you cant honestly blame me for that." Curtis picked the spatula back up, tending to the veil in the pan.

"Y-your right. And I- I know it'll take a lot to ch-change your mind about about me. We don't have any good history th-the way...that..." Lance spoke softer and softer until he was practically unintelligible as he nervously picked on his cuticles, not caring that he was ripping the dry bits away leaving hangnails. His fingers were feeling numb anyway.

"Lance hush. Let me handle this." Keith pushed Lance back a few steps. Lance didn't have it in him to not comply, his knees felt wobbly.

"Im dating Lance. Lance might be seeking your approval but I'm not, Curtis. I do understand what you're trying to say but you just don't know him like we do-"

"-Im not saying no Keith. I'm saying I'm wary. I don't want you to end up all fucked up emotionally because he cant control his bad habits. I love you and don't want to see you hurt because you couldn't take off the rose colored glasses. You are correct about me not knowing Lance the same way, but I don't have any fond memories of the guy. It's all just bad experiences, and sure I feel for him but I cant trust him as far as I can throw him." Lance could feel his heart beating in his ears. He stared at his shoes, the ground seeming to stretch a mile away from him. He tugged at the collar of his nice shirt, forgetting he was trying to impress someone, suddenly feeling hot and clammy. What a stupid idea to think he could. 

"Curtis, dear, I see what you are saying but you also have to admit that this is the most effort we've seen Lance put in in years..."

"And that's not at all concerning to you, Shiro? Its been two months...two. Were not talking two years here." 

"After YEARS of substance abuse do you not think that's at least commendable?"

"Of course I do. Its impressive. I'm not saying it wasn't hard or respectable. I'm saying I simply don't trust him to not hurt Keith's feeling in the long run."

"Id rather find that out for myself, thank you very much. I know he asked but I'm really feeling like this isn't exactly your place to share that."

"Guys please try to understand that I'm saying this because I want to trust Lance but literally can not. If he knows how I feel about it and knows someone is watching out for you, I'd feel a lot more comfortable about the whole thing in general. I don't have to like who you're daring, Keith. Im not the one dating him, but I care about-" 

"Lance?" Shiro asks earnestly, wishing he could stand and make his way over there without help, because he really didn't look so good.

"Oh shit. I didn't...I did it again, didn't I, Takashi."

"Lance, baby?"

Loser, useless, bum, addict, no good, waste of space, lost cause, seventh wheel. So many thoughts swirled around Lance's head. God he was so sensitive, it was pathetic. He was- is pathetic. Why did he eben think he deserved Keith in the first place. Keith was too good for him. He was bound to hurt him eventually. Curtis had a seriously infallible point. He just wanted to shrivel up and disappear. He should be dead anyways, Allura should have never brought him back. All his problems would be solved. Lance was spiraling. He didn't- couldn't even register the guys were speaking to him. He was sure he wasn't breathing at least, seeing spots when he tried to suck in a gasp on air before his knees buckled. 

Keith wrapped his arms around Lance's shoulders and lowered him to the ground gently. A whimper caught in Lance's throat, hearing Shiro's voice come through put him back on the castle ship, one of the last places he wanted to be. His vision going white, he cant breathe, he's in the airlock. He can see Keith through the window but he looks different, but he cant breathe so it doesn't matter how he looks. His fingers are slipping, digging into something firm, he focuses on trying to maintain his grasp. He's desperately trying to suck in a breath. Just one. If he could only get one.

The other two turned around at Shiro's troubled tone, seeing Lance, looking pale and sweaty and clearly distant. So very distant. Keith almost immediately sprung into action, nearing Lance but not touching him, holding his arms out in case he falls.

Curtis feels immensely guilty, still believes in what he said, but he hadn't taken the current fragility of Lance into consideration. He couldn't have known, this was supposed to be a neutral place and a neutral conversation. His intention was never to hurt anyone. He turned off the stove top wanting to focus on what was happening without the threat of accidentally burning the house down. That would really be the proverbial cherry on top of his series of mishaps for the night.

Lance swayed hard to the left away from Keith, Shiro shooting his prosthetic towards him with a substantial amount of effort to slow him down. Lance grips it like letting go would be a death sentence as Keith lower him to the ground. Lance is sweating and gasping for air but cant seem to find the function. 

"Keith you need to get him to breathe. He's going to pass out. Breath in to four, hold four, release four. I-I don't want to touch him I caused this I might just make things worse. Im- Im so sorry. I didn't mean-" 

Keith positions himself in front of Lance, lifting his head in his palms. 

"Lance baby, breathe, you're safe. You're home on earth. Its Keith. Trust me, Love, look." Keith makes an attempt to grab one of Lance's hands and he panics even harder until Keith lets go, white knuckling the hard round material of Shiro's arm. Keith swallows down his own panic, seeing Lance like this was never easy. Lance manages a sob which gets him to breathe at least once. Its not a full inhale, but it was a start. 

"Good, Lance. Can you reach for me? Give me your hand. I can help you but i need you to help me help you." He remembers this. He reaches out slowly, with great hesitation, his whole body shivering and shaking. Keith grabs the outstretched hand and places it against his own chest. "Breathe with me Lance."

"I- ca- air-lock" his voice is broken. It comes out so foggy and distant. It didn't sound like himself. It was foreign and pulled him away from his other thoughts.

"You CAN. You can, Lance. In. Out. Try for me." Lance does try. He heaves and chokes and sobs and eventually his shuttering chest releases and he can take a single full breath. Keith encourages him to keep trying until things cool down to silent exhausted tears running down his face. He crunches and stretches his fingers, trying to bring the feeling back to his hands. 

"Lance I'm so sorry. I didn't mean- I didn't want to....I'm sorry." Curtis kept back, not wanting to set him off again.

"i's...okay..h'pp'ns s'metimes. " Lance felt like he had a balmera sitting on his shoulders. He fell forward pressing his forehead into his boyfriend's clavicle, letting go of Shiro's arm. He brought it back to himself, rubbing his shoulder socket at the strain, sighing in relief.

"Lance is...struggling with some things. We're working on it. We wouldn't have had the conversation if we thought he couldn't handle it. You didn't know. None of us knew. We are going to talk about this in private though. I need to explain a few things."

"M right here." Lance spoke through Keith's shirt as Keith rubbed slow circles into his back.

"Shh. Just breathe babe." 

"Do you want us to go for the night?" Shiro asked softly with understanding.

Lance lifted his head, resting on his esr so he could see with a pleading look. "No. No. I jus need a minute. I swear. Don't go." Shiro smiled softly. 

"Okay, Lance. We wont go."

"There's still about thirty minutes left on dinner, do you want to lie down for a little bit?" Curtis suggested meekly, feeling like he's said quite enough. Lance's eyes watered and he nodded, clinging to Keith limply.

"I can carry him by myself, but i could use the help. He's gangly." Keith propped himself under Lance's arm, Curtis quietly taking up the other side. They lifted slowly, waiting for Lance to get his feet underneath himself. They carried him into their shared downstairs bedroom and got him situated with his feet propped up so he didn't feel faint when he tried to move later.

The two turn the corner, making it a little past the downstairs bathroom in the hall before Keith angrily turned on his feet.

"We will be dropping this for the rest of the night. I wont hesitate to make you leave if staying is going to cost Lance his health. He's a extremely volatile and despite looking like hes built like a shit brick house, he's frail. Not to mention an ADDICT. You cant say shit like that. Do you understand how disheartening it is to hear something like that when you already believe you can't get better?"

"Loud and clear. It wont be brought up again. I'm truly sorry. It was none of my business to begin with. I just get so caught up in protecting my family that I don't think sometimes and that's on me. I'll make it up to you guys." Keith sighs deeply, releasing his anger. Curtis was earnest and it made him difficult to stay angry at.

"Good. Im glad we are on the same page.....now teach me how to make that pan sauce."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/MPsfOZKLBVs


	19. Rooted

Grogginess weighed heavy on Lance's soul as he jerked himself awake. He pushed the few stray half dried tears from his face, confused about their origins before remembering the panic attack he had in front of his boyfriend's family. 

How mortifying. 

He couldn't believe he just froze like that instead of defending himself. Curtis has some reasonable points but Lance was taking things seriously...wasn't he? 

He was opening up. He hadn't touched anything in several weeks and didn't plan to either. He was making an effort. He knew this but he still felt so weak and stupid for thinking they'd at least be happy about Keith and him finally getting together. An ache sat heavy in his chest, petrified that Keith would take Curtis's words into consideration and leave. Loneliness almost had killed Lance once, he was unsure he would survive a second round with it. The kitchen was still noisy so at least he was glad they didn't feel the need to leave because of him tonight. They'd pretend to treat him normally for the rest of dinner and he would let himself silently break down about it long after Keith went to sleep. Lance didn't exactly feel like moving at the moment, locking his fingers over his abdomen as he stared into the ceiling. It was a shocker that his eyes hadn't bore holes into it from the countless years his eyes darted into the old glittering plaster.

He didn't know how much time had passed emptily staring at nothing in particular, dissociating to avoid the growing weight in his chest, when a timid knock came at the door frame, pulling him away from the empty void of his mind back into consciousness. He limply flopped his head to the sidd to it seeing a concerned looking Keith smiling back at him coyly.

"You look like you have steam rolling out of your ears. Whatever it is you're thinking, it's probably not true." Keith lead himself into the room, climbing onto the bed and straddling Lance's waist. Lance didn't speak or move, not wanting to waste the exertion. He laced their hands together, interlocking their fingers and leaning against Lance's hands a little to tower over him.

"Am I weak?" Lance asks meekly, avoiding Keith's eyes with his own, mostly staring into the pattern of Keith's shirt. His face felt hot, like he was embarrassed to ask, and already knew the answer was no, but knew he wouldn't be able to take that for an answer.

"Of course not. Fragile? Yes. But not weak." Keith fiddled with Lance's arms playfully as he spoke.

"That's kind of contradictory isn't it?" Lance squinted.

"No. At least I don't think so. Its like...you're not a glass object, so if you fall you won't break, but that doesn't mean we still shouldn't be careful with you. You've put up with a lot, Lance. A lot other people wouldn't bounce back from. You're still here and that's very strong."

"Guess it just doesn't feel like it." He shrugged slightly.

"That just about sums it up. Its hard to view how hard your working from the inside Love, but I see you and can tell you that just because you arent seeing it doesn't mean you're not doing it. You also shouldn't let what Curtis said hurt you. He doesn't even hardly know you... Not like I do." Lance nods, deep in reflection.

"That makes sense....I'm hungry."

"Well. Lucky for you I came in here to wake you up and tell you it's done." With that Lance smiled softly at him, letting himself be pulled up wearily, following Keith with their hands clasped, letting go when they neared the kitchen, much to Keith's disappointment. He hated seeing Lance's confidence dismantled so easily.

He wrapped his hand around his forearm, rounding the corner and finding his seat with his head hung slightly. He smiled emptily at Shiro and Curtis, nervously raising a hand to say hello. Keith had dinner set and ready and it seemed they were all just waiting for him. Awkward, Lance cringed internally at the quietness between them all. Keith sat down and clears his throat loudly.

"Well Curtis this smells amazing. Im not waiting on you losers." Keith shoved a fork full in his mouth, his shoulders melting downwards a little in satisfaction with a hum of delight. Lance shrugged and tucked into the food as well. Keith wasn't lying when he said Curtis could cook. It was honestly impressive how good it was, but the tension was still in the air. They all are in silence for a while, just trying to enjoy each other's company despite the previous altercation.

It finally dissolved when the doorbell had gone off. Lance stood and dismissed himself instantly, not giving anyone a chance to stop him or get it for him. He was getting somewhat desperate for a smoke break anyways and would send away anyone who approached, thinking it was some kind of salesmen since he wasn't expecting any guests, and pop out then for a quick puff before heading back to dinner.

He opened the door cautiously, blinking in shock when the open door reveled his twin sister Rachel and older brother Marco. He froze in place sith his jaw slack, but smiling.

"Hello? Earth to Lance..." He shook it off, grabbing Rachel's shirt and pulling her forward into a bear tight hug, enveloping her in his muscular arms. He gripped her tan leather jacket tightly in his hands. She gently patted his back as Marco ruffled his hair.

"What are you guys doing here?!" Lance spoke hugging his brother next, his eyes glossy.

"My twin senses were tingling," she laughed, "No. I'm kidding. the garrison just called us to their headquarters to do a presentation for the students and we couldn't resist coming into town to visit the baby of the family." She pinched his face.

"Rachel you're ten minutes older than me you don't get to call me a baby." She smiled,swatting her hand and rubbing his cheek where she had pinched.

"So who you got over?" Marco raised his eyebrows suggestively a few times, pointing at the van in the driveway next to his truck.

"Oh.. Shiro, and Curtis came over to cook dinner with Keith and I."

"K-keith and you?" Lance cringed again, stepping out and closing the front door behind him.

"I was hoping to do this a different time. I just had a not so great reaction from Curtis about it all, but Keith and I are together and have been living together for about two months."

"What an asshole. Why wouldn't he want you two to be happy? Should I go do something about it?" Rachel pushed one of her jacket sleeves up angrily.

"No! For the love of god Rachel, put the gunshow away." Lance pinched his brow ridge, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and shoving one in his mouth. Marco grimaced. Feeling judged, Lance responded.

"Look man, I'm outside anyways, may as well. Makes...makes things more manageable. I've...I've stayed out of trouble since Keith came along."

"Wow." Rachel crossed her arms, jutting a hip out, impressed.

"He sounds really good for you, Bro." Marco slung an arm over Lance's shoulders casually.

"He is. Problem is Curtis thinks I'm bad for him though. He's not wrong."

"Don't sell yourself short. Im proud of you."

"Please stop, Rachel. I'm getting sick of hearing it to be honest. I don't mind it once in a while, but it sort of feels arbitrary at this point. I don't feel any better about the whole thing. Ha sido divertido." Lance spoke spanish sarcastically, lighting his cigarette.

"But I am. There's no harm in putting it out there. Is there more going on we should know about?"Lance contemplated answering honestly but his family was too busy to worry. He didn't want to eat up any space in their mind.

"Nah. Things are great. I love Keith. He keeps me grounded and is beyond patient with me. He always has been. Staying c-clean has been challenging but he's there for me, you know. Its more than i feel I've earned sometimes."

"But?" Rachel paused, giving lance a look he knew all too well. Rachel always had been able to almost read his mind. Lance wasn't given the same skill since his head always seemed to be too stuck in the stars to observe Rachel the same way, he always had gut feelings about when she got hurt though. "You cant fool me Lance, we are identical twins, our tells are the same and you're hiding something from me."

"You know how a few months after I came back for good I started...acting weird and you wouldn't let up about it and went and told mom about it and she made you never ask me about it again?"

"You were screaming in your sleep. It was a little more than weird, Mano." Marco pulled Lance closer into his side, wrapping his other arm around Lance in a comforting side hug. Lance shakily grabbed Marco's wrist, enjoying the support and closeness of his family

"Yeah. She made me go to a ton of therapists before her and dad p-passed. I have pretty severe PTSD from my time in space. Its back. I mean it never really left it was just drowned out before I stopped.....doing drugs a couple months ago. And i-it's back and its so much worse than it was. It feels oddly fresher. Like it all happened yesterday. It cuts so clear without the curtain of drugs over my eyes. Im trying to shove it back down but it happened earlier tonight after Curtis tried to talk us out of dating and I had a panic attack. It's super awkward in there right now."

"Im going to kick his ass-"

"-RACH. That wont help. Don't. Plus I was half conscious when I heard Keith start reaming into him so I feel he probably learned the lesson by now."

"Is there anything we can do to help?"Lance sighed deeply, running his thumb over Marco's wrist as he spoke.

"No. Not really. Talking about it would just salt the wound for now. I've got a therapist. We've only seen each other twice but I like him. He's easy to talk to. The house isn't empty anymore with Keith there. It makes the silence easier to handle. I'd like to see Luis, Veronica, and the kids, but I doubt the warm reception for at least a little bit when it comes to being allowed to see them. Veronica is just so busy. Just...treat me like normal. Like now. Like you always have."

"That seems like a reasonable deal to me, how about you, Manita?" Marco set his chin on the top of Lance's head, just hardly able to reach, speaking to Rachel.

She rolled her eyes hard, shaking her head. "Duh. Like I'd ever see you as anything other than Mr.LanceyPants. I'm just glad you're doing better, as hard as it seems." Lance smiled as the door next to them swung open, he jumped, still feeling safer as Marco held him securely. 

"Hey Lance everything oka-" keith paused for a moment in surprise, getting a curious sort of look on his face before smiling wide. "....I would have thought I was seeing double if Marco weren't here with you too. You two wanna come in? There's plenty of room and food." He thumbed towards the inside of the house. Lance smacked his forehead.

"Duh. Y'all can stay here while you're in town if you want. I just assumed you would and didn't even mention it. All the rooms upstairs are pretty much untouched. We took over Veronica's old room downstairs."

"Of course you did." Rachel giggled. Marco squeezed Lance's shoulder before releasing him.

"I could always eat." Marco shrugged.

"Puedes decir eso de nuevo, bottomless pit." Lance pushed him slightly as he made his way inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/5HzpPl5a9EA


	20. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know the writing in this was kind of lazy but i was desperate to push something out after a short hiatus. It sort of feels like my brain is sludge at the moment so updates may be slower but there is more on the way. I have long term plans for this fic. I'll likely edit this sooner rather than later to make it at least legible if not more detailed. My dyslexia has been extra bad recently since I'm more stressed out than usual. This was also my first real writing project in a very long time so I'm glad y'all at least seem to be enjoying it. 
> 
> Much love- Lemin

The crew greeted Shiro and Curtis, Rachel playing nice despite her distaste for the latter at the moment, and they soon settled back around the table, joking and chit chatting amongst each other. Lance set up a few extra plates and served the rest of dinner up for his family members before setting himself back at the table. He was glad the previous tension seemed to be like a thin smoke rather than a billowing fog that choked life from the room. He missed his family's laughter filling these empty, but not so empty halls. He closed his eyes for a moment, just soaking in the noise. It had been a long time since his life had felt this normal. He was reveling in the warmth of it all. The food was great, he didn't feel sick, he had keith, his family was visiting. Lance was terrified it would be the last time, wanting to absorb as much of the moment as possible. The room fell quiet as he spoke.

"I'm really happy you're all here. Like genuinely happy..." Lance nervously itched the back of his neck. "I know that seems random, but I just haven't felt that way in a long time. And...this makes me happy. Having you all here, I mean." 

"We're happy you're here too, at least I know I am." Keith's hand rested against the back of Lance's on the table. "I don't know what I'd do without you and I can't count the times you've saved my hide. Its about time I return the favor."

"If this makes you happy Lance, Marco and I can come visit more often. We certainly don't visit enough as is, man... I really should call Luis and Veronica and see what they're up to. Maybe we can get the whole family together soon."

"Please keep your expectations realistic. It is ME that we're dealing with here. I also doubt the kids would be allowed to take time off of their garrison training just to come see Tio Lance." Lance crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair a little.

"We can put a good enough of a word in to make it work. Just leave it to us alright?" Lance shrugged with a small nod. 

"Such little faith in us..." Marco spoke, shaking his head and pointing his fork at Lance. "Don't worry I promise not to take it to heart."

"Sounds like a great time for Keith to formally meet the family as....as my partner." Rachel lifted a threatening eyebrow at Curtis, but maintained her composure. Lance shouldn't have to feel worried about that, though Rachel know Lance's history with his father. Their Papa was a reserved man with old values and would have never approved. There were many times the two had butt heads on the matter of Lance expressing his feminine and sensitive side. He wouldn't have been able to handle Lance's bisexuality let alone having a male partner. He quit dance because the pressure to be manly and strong had gotten to him. She remembered her father's pride when Lance got into the garrison. Curtis's reaction, whatever it was, wasn't helping his case and Rachel made sure to take note of that for later if it came up again. She wouldn't push though.

"I think that would be a great idea. Keith is always more than welcome to be a part of the family and come to family functions." Marco gave a thumbs up and a wide grin.

"You already know I think he's good for you. You guys have always just... worked together. It just makes sense." Rachel spoke softly, poking her fork around the plate. Keith flipped Lance's hand over, lacing their fingers together and bringing them to his lips to kiss Lance's rough knuckles.

Keith's brows creased in thought for a moment before his eyes lit up. 

"I just had an idea! Lance's three month sober date is coming up in a couple weeks. What if we celebrated? We could try to get the whole crew together. Something outdoors? I know ut gets cold at night this time of year but its still plenty hot enough to use the pool if i got it cleaned up. We could just cook, hang out, catch up..."

"I think that's an even better idea! Consider it done. Y'all dont have to worry about anything. I love throwing parties. I'll take care of reaching out to everyone and letting them know. Just...focus on keeping your streak up."

"I dont plan on taking another dive off the deep end any time soon, Rachel. You guys sure you want to do this for me? It sure seems like a lot of work for such a small milestone."

"Hey!" Rachel stood, picking up plates from the table, but stopping to bend down and kiss her brother on the cheek before taking his as well, "This is not small....and it's not work. I love doin' this kinda junk. Let yourself have to moment, 'kay?"

The rest of the night went smoothly, ending with Marco and Rachel taking their things up to their old rooms, Shiro and Curtis bidding their farewells for the evening, and Keith in Lance in the kitchen doing the dishes Rachel had put away. The two quietly just enjoyed each other's presence, the silence being broken by Keith's quiet humming. He wrapped his arms around Lance's waist from the back, resting his chin on Lance's shoulder.

"Eventful night, huh?"

"Tell me about it."

"Are you okay? You'd tell me if you weren't right?" Keith rested his cheek against Lance's shoulder, just shifting slightly while Lance stuck his hands into the soapy water.

"I.. I actually am. I know it was rough earlier in the night but I feel....good. Not just neutral, but good. Sometimes I feel like I'm falling and I'm anticipating hitting the bottom and that it will hurt when I do, but I'm not falling anymore. I'm tethered. I...feel safe and loved and wanted around and I don't really know what to do with that feeling but it feels good and I don't want it to go away. Im anxious it will." Keith ran his hands up Lance's chest, pulling his back closer to his own chest with a hum, pressing his cheek to the nape of Lance's neck.

"If it does, all we have to do is try to find the feeling again, and again, and again, until you believe you deserve it and I will continue to hold onto you long after you no longer need me to stop you from falling. I will never let you fall alone again."

"I believe you and I trust you. And I hope you trust me not to fuck this all up."

"I do."

"And most importantly," Lance shook soap off of his hands, patting them dry with a hand towel. He turned around, wrapping his hands around Keith's hips, "I love you. And I'll never get tired if saying it. Im trying my hardest not to sabotage the fact that I get to say it. You're really important to me, ya know."

"We could really get used to this, Lance. I love you too. Both of our lives have been so messy. It's nice to finally slow down and just appreciate our time doing domestic shit like this. Its feels fake sometimes and then i get hit with this wave of emotion when I realize this is reality and-"

"-it feels like a fairytale?"

"Yeah."

"Trust me when I say I know exactly how you feel." Lance laughs low and bright, thumbing over Keith's cheek. Lance takes a moment to pull out his holopad, playing some soft love song Keith didn't recognize before setting on the counter. He grabbed Keith's hand and Keith laughed.

"What are you doing?"

"Domestic shit." He placed his other hand on the small of Keith's back, enjoying the small panicked look on Keith's face.

"I dont know how to dance."

"You don't have to know how, just follow me. Feel me. Be with me." He guided Keith's other arm gently around his neck before placing his back at his waist and slowly began pulling Keith across the kitchen to the gentle beat of the the guitar and cello. Keith's eyes sparkled in the low light of the kitchen, swaying to the music. Lance was a fantastic dancer, he always had been but now Keith was finally getting a taste rather than watching him try to swoon some alien girl from the sidelines. He was graceful and subtle in his movements, letting Keith stumble his way through without faltering himself. Keith felt himself sinking into the rhythm, pressing his cheek against Lance's. Keith felt himself dip back suddenly, being held up by Lance's strong arms. He moved his face close, mumbling the lyrics softly at the space between them before pressing a kiss onto Keith's lips and pulling him back up, not breaking the contact of their lips.

"You sure now how to make a man swoon, Lance." Keith tucked some of his hair behind his ear. 

"If it's as easy as dancing with you, then you've got a long life of being swooned ahead." Keith giggled under his breath.

"Yeah i guess I really do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/erywPdFfORE


End file.
